


Same Damn Life

by Skyshadow3246, Wolfloner



Series: Finding Beauty in Negative Spaces [13]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Both of them think it's one-sided, Canon-Typical Violence, Demisexual Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hearing Voices, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Underage Sex, POV Peter Parker, POV Wade Wilson, Peter is 17, Pokemon - Freeform, Possible Borderline Personality Disorder, Protective Wade Wilson, Schizophrenic Wade Wilson, Slow Burn, UNTIL THEY DON'T, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, Wade is 27, White and yellow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-21 23:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15568803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyshadow3246/pseuds/Skyshadow3246, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner
Summary: So, Spider-Man was a teenager. That was fine. Definitely fine. Not at all weird or uncomfortable or… but White and Yellow were laughing. Both of them. It was never good when they agreed on something.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sky and I needed a break from FrostIron after Turn Around. So let's play some catch-up with SpideyPool!
> 
> Chapter 3 will actually have the plot moving forward. Hot damn!
> 
> If you're following FBiNS but aren't a SpideyPool fan, never fear. All big plot-development stuff will happen in Tony/Loki stories.
> 
> I feel like the fic speaks for itself, but just to be super clear:  
> Wade isn't attracted to Peter _because_ he's underage. He had no idea that Spider-Man was a kid. He is more than slightly stressed out by this revelation.
> 
> PS: I dumbed really hard. Pokemon Let's Go Pikachu comes out the 16th of November. I guess it came out a bit early in FBiNS. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_ Come smoke a cigarette and let your hair down _

_ Then pray for the rain to go away _

_ I'm trying to forget I let us both down _

_ Then pray for the sun to come again _

 

November

 

**Wade**

 

So, Spider-Man was a teenager. That was fine. Definitely fine. Not at all weird or uncomfortable or… but White and Yellow were laughing. Both of them. It was never good when they agreed on something.

 

_ Shut up _ , Wade groused.

 

_ A literal child! _ Yellow sang.  _ You’ve been lusting after a  _ literal _ child. How fucked up is that? _

 

_ It’s not like I knew--no. Shut up. SHUT. UP. _

 

_ Just wait until he finds out. He’ll be positively disgusted to be around you. _ White wasn’t much better.

 

After Stark and Loki left, Peter looked more freaked out than ever, his hand absently rubbing his chest. “You ok, Webs?”

 

Peter practically jumped to attention, pulled from his thoughts. “Oh, yeah, totally! I’m good.”

 

Wade didn’t believe him for a moment. “Chest hurt?”

 

The boy deflated a bit. “Yeah.”

 

Wade nodded. He understood all to well. “First panic attack?”

 

Peter shook his head. “No. Well. First one like that.”

 

The door to the room opened, and someone Wade didn’t know walked in.

 

_ Knife him! _ Yellow suggested.

 

_ No! Wait. _ White countered.

 

But Peter was smiling at the stranger. He looked slightly familiar, but definitely wasn’t an Avenger. Deadpool would know. “Hey, Happy!”

 

“Happy?” Deadpool asked, taking inventory of how Happy moved and the best way to take him out if needed.

 

_ Knife to the chest will take anyone out _ . Yellow said.  _ Except you _ .

 

Happy gave a curt nod towards Deadpool. “C’mon, kid. Tony wants you to head out and get some rest.”

 

_ I told you to wait. He just wants to help Peter. See _ ? 

 

But Peter’s smile had faded. “Oh, yeah, ok, I guess…” He ran a hand through his hair. His hair looked soft. Deadpool--Wade kind of wanted to touch it. “May’s going to have a lot of questions…”

 

“You can stay over at my place if you want?” Wade offered, surprising himself.  _ Who’s May? Girlfriend? _ He wondered.

 

_ He can  _ what _? _ White squacked. Yellow was cackling.

 

“I have a pull out couch,” Wade finished, ignoring the voices. He was getting good at that. Really. Usually. Sometimes. Peter and Happy were just  _ looking _ at him. “You don’t have to or anything, of course. I just thought…” 

 

“That would be great, actually.”  Peter looked relieved.

 

Yellow was mocking him, filling his head with all sorts of lewd suggestions that Wade desperately wished didn’t sound so fucking appealing. Peter was a  _ kid _ damn it. “Cool.”

 

Happy waved his arm towards the door. “I don’t care where we go, but let’s go. I would like to get home sometime tonight.”

 

As they stood in the elevator Wade asked, “What happens when you guys have a power outage?”

 

“We don’t.” Happy told him.

 

“Ok, but if you did? Or if the elevators broke down?”

 

“In that impossible scenario, we’d use the stairs.”

 

“You just expect people to walk down 80 plus flights of stairs? Kind of ableist of you.”

 

Happy looked frustrated, but a small smile was threatening to appear on Peter’s face.  _ Success _ .

 

Once they got to the car, though, Peter just stared out the window. Wade gave Happy the address and quickly gave up on trying to engage Peter in any sort of conversation. It was an unreasonably quiet drive. The kind of quiet that made it hard to drown out White and Yellow. The kind that set Wade’s skin to itching,  _ hurting _ . He was grateful for the distraction when he realized where they were going to pass.

 

“Hey, Peter. D’you like tacos?”

 

“Mmm. Huh?” Peter turned from the window to look at him. “Uh, yeah?”

 

Wade grinned. “Hey, Happy! Stop the car real fast!”

 

“I’m not stopping.” Happy told him.

 

“Well, alright then.” Wade unlocked the car door and made to open it. He could just tuck and roll, no big deal.

 

“What are you--Ok! I’ll stop the car!” Happy groused.

 

Wade thought about inviting Peter in with him, but decided against it. “I’ll be right back.” He hopped out and strode confidently into the nondescript storefront. A tiny sign in the window the only suggestion that they might serve food. Sure this place was a front for a drug cartel, but fuck if they didn’t have the best tacos in New York. He paused before ordering. What would Peter want to eat? Would he want to eat? Was his metabolism as fucked as Wade’s? 

 

“Ah, Deadpool. I have a job for you.”

 

Wade glanced up from the menu. “Uuuh. Can it wait until tomorrow?”

 

The man’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose.”

 

“Great. I’ll come by tomorrow then.” He wound up ordering a little bit of everything.

 

“What do you have going on tonight that’s so important?” He glanced over Deadpool’s order. “Having a party?”

 

Wade shrugged. “Sure. Something like that.” He grabbed the food as soon as it appeared and made a break for the car. He was grateful for the tinted windows. Suddenly he didn’t want anyone knowing about Peter. Didn’t want to put him at risk. 

 

He passed a sack up to Happy when the car stopped outside his apartment building. “Got you something, too.” 

 

Happy took it after a moment’s hesitation. “Thanks. Keep an eye on him, alright?”

 

“Will do!” Of course Wade was going to keep an eye on him. He didn’t invite Peter over to  _ not _ keep an eye on him. 

 

_ And maybe keep some  _ other things _ on him _ , Yellow said.

 

Wade ignored it and walked side-by-side with Peter to his apartment door. He barely had the door open before Peter walked robotically past him and flopped facedown on the couch. He set the bags of food on the floor in front of the couch before gingerly sitting down next to his head. “Hey, you ok?”

 

The boy jumped as if he’d forgotten Wade was there. “Wha?” He struggled into a sitting position. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. All good. Just kind of tired.”

 

Wade gave him a disbelieving look, then realized Peter couldn’t see it. “Hang on, that would have been way more effective if…” He pulled his mask off, flashed a quick grin at Peter, then resumed his disbelieving expression. 

 

Peter’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m good, Deadpool.”

 

“Wade,” he corrected, screwing up his face to increase his appearance of disbelief. 

 

He sighed. “Do you think Mr. Loki was serious? About the end of the world stuff?”

 

Wade wanted to make a joke. Peter’s stress was overwhelming. He couldn’t think of any. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. The Avengers have stopped the end of the world before, right?”

 

Peter shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but--”

 

“Besides, we totally choked that chicken today.” 

 

_ Nice _ . White said, sounding exasperated.  _ Masturbation jokes, real classy _ .

 

But Peter was managing an actual smile now, so it was fine.

 

“Anyway, there’s no point in worrying about it right now, is there?”

 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Peter nodded.

 

“Awesome.” Wade handed Peter the remote. “Pick something to watch, and let’s eat.”

 

Peter settled on Iron Chef America, and they enjoyed Alton Brown’s commentary as they worked through the tacos Wade had bought.

 

“Wow, these are really good.” Peter said during a commercial.

 

Wade grinned. “I'm glad you like ‘em! The place is a front for a drug cartel, but they make incredible food.”

 

Peter just stared. “Are you serious?”

 

“Mmhmm. I kind of stumbled upon them during a job.”

 

“A job?” Peter looked curious.

 

Wade paused, considering what he wanted to say. The kid had already had a hard day without him adding in that he was a killer-for-hire. He could share that later. Or never. Never sounded good. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I, uh…”

 

“You're a mercenary.” Peter filled in. “I know all that, Wade.”

 

“You do?”

 

Peter nodded. “Yep,” he said between bites. “The Avengers keep up with enhanced people.”

 

Wade's blood ran cold. “Do they know who I am?”

 

“I don't think so, no.”

 

Wade tried to push down thoughts of breaking into The Tower to scrub all mentions of him from their systems. There was no way he'd be able to break in and out without someone finding out. And then he'd have to kill someone. Probably someone Peter gave a damn about. He wanted to avoid that if at all possible. 

 

Peter didn't seem to notice his shift in demeanor, though. “Would it be cool if I took a quick shower? I feel gross.”

 

Yellow was having an increasingly hard to ignore hayday at that suggestion. “Sure, of course.” He was glad that Peter knew the way to go, because Yellow was doing it’s best to make conversation  _ very _ difficult, flooding Wade’s mind with wholly inappropriate imagery. “God damn it,” he whispered after he heard the shower running. 

 

Wade curled up on the couch, head leaning over the back. He was just going to have to get over this. The guy he’d been admiring and having regular impure thoughts about was a kid. Literally a kid. He needed to adjust. Immediately. 

 

Peter leaving the bathroom rubbing a towel over his hair with his shirt sticking to not-quite-dry skin didn’t help at all. He also looked considerably more relaxed than he had before going into the restroom. 

 

_ He was probably in there jerking off, don’t you think? See how much calmer he is now?  _ Yellow was taunting him. Yellow was a dick.

 

_ No. I’m not thinking about it. _

 

_ Liar. _

 

Wade definitely didn’t make a high pitched noise in lieu of a proper explanation when he fled to his bedroom for a moment. He changed quickly: jeans, hoodie. Covering as much of his skin as he could manage without his suit. He took a moment to try to get his thoughts under control. The thoughts he could control, at least. Yellow wasn’t helping. White was just admonishing him. Which also wasn’t helpful. 

 

Eventually, he couldn’t hide anymore. “Wanna play a video game?” He asked when he returned to the living room. 

 

Peter glanced up from his phone. “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure!” He finished tapping on his phone before shoving it in his pocket. “Sorry, was letting Aunt May know I wouldn’t be home.”

 

_ Ooooh, May’s his aunt. Well, that makes sense _ . White wasn’t the only one glad to have that curiosity sated. And Wade was just going to ignore the small knot in his chest that came undone at the revelation.  _ Jesus Christ, Deadpool. Get it together _ .

 

Wade gestured towards the bookcase next to the tv. He was quite pleased by his video game collection, and was equally pleased by Peter’s enthusiasm as he looked over the games. Then Peter let out a small laugh. “Pokèmon?” He held up the box for _ Let’s Go Pikachu. _

 

Wade blinked. “Yeah? What? You have an issue with my boy Pikachu?”

 

Peter was giggling. “I just didn’t expect it, I guess.”

 

He did his best to look affronted. “Ok, I know you were like  _ this _ ,” he held his hands a few inches apart, “when those games were big. But I was 7 when they came out. Those adorable bastards were the only good part of my childhood.” Wade paused. He hadn’t meant to say that. He didn’t think about his childhood.  _ Ever _ . If he didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t exist.

 

Peter, bless him, didn’t push. “I’ve never played any of them.” He held out the box. “Show me?”

 

Wade grinned as they booted up the game, each holding a Joy-Con. He launched into a brief explanation of the game, and the ways in which it was different than the others. “Have you played any of Pokèmon Go?”

 

“Uh, nope.”

 

“What do you  _ do _ during the summers?”

 

“I’m a student.”

 

“Not during the summer!”

 

But it looked like Peter was having fun. He was delighted by the colorful designs. He even cheered appropriately when they first had a Pokèmon evolve. 

 

“Who’s your favorite?” Peter asked as they made their way through a cave.

 

Wade let out a low whistle. “It varies, I guess,” he admitted. “Right now--hang on. It’s not in this game.” He grabbed his phone to pull up a picture. 

 

“No-ee-bat?” Peter glanced up from the image of the purple and black bat.

 

“Noibat. Like noise.”

 

“It’s cute. Is that why you like it?”

 

“That’s part of it. But also,” he pulled his phone back and tapped the screen. “It evolves into this. Big ol’ wyvern. Who wouldn’t love it?”

 

Peter looked back at their game thoughtfully. “I like Onix,” he said after a moment. 

 

They were four gyms deep when let out a yawn. 

 

“You about ready to crash?” Wade nudged him with his elbow.

 

“Nope.” Peter said through another yawn. “I’m having fun.”

 

“The game’s not going anywhere. If you’re tired, we should go to bed.” He glanced at the time. “Also it’s like 3am, so.”

 

Peter looked started. “How?”

 

“Well, the thing about time--”

 

“Shut up. You know what I mean.”

 

Wade nodded. “Yeah, I do. You can totally sleep in my bed, if you want.”

 

_ What the fuck, Deadpool _ ?

 

_ Yeah! Get some of that sweet jailbait ass! _

 

“I mean. You could sleep in the bed, and I’ll crash on the couch. I don’t mind.” He covered quickly.

 

Peter didn’t notice anything amiss. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I’m fine on the couch! Thank you.” He held his hands up, obviously not wanting to feel like an imposition. Not that it would have been one. At all.

 

Wade dragged an extra blanket and a pillow from his room.

 

“Thanks. I--... Frozen?” Peter stared down at the blanket.

 

He’d already let enough slip today. He wasn’t going to mention Ellie on top of it. “Don’t judge me.” Peter seemed to take him on face value, for which Wade was grateful. He made to retreat back to this own room. “If you need anything just let me know.”

 

Peter gave him a thumbs up. “Got it.”

 

Wade definitely didn't give a second thought to how much Peter wore when he slept.

  
  


**Peter**

 

Peter woke with a start, the final dregs of his nightmare still burning behind his eyes. Blinding white, oppressive noise, his own desperate bids for death, all slowly faded from his mind. He was breathing too hard, too fast, his heart felt like it might burst from his chest. Had he been crying? Maybe. He couldn’t tell yet. He couldn’t hear May, or the neighbor’s dog, Muffin, or the snores of Mrs. Jacobson next door. He sat up quickly, taking in his surroundings. Where was he? What was going on? 

 

He blinked. He was in Wade’s apartment. He was safe. He couldn’t hear May because she was at home, also safe. The nightmare hadn’t been a nightmare. It had been memories. They had fought a giant rooster, that might or might not mean the end of the world was coming. He laughed. Couldn’t not laugh.  That kind of hysterical laugh that happens when you’re mind is so overwhelmed that it can’t process reality.

 

It was nearly 7 in the morning. No real sense in trying to go back to sleep, Peter decided. He rolled off the couch and onto his feet, padding over to the kitchen. The fridge and pantry were completely empty. “What does Wade even eat?” He asked no one in particular. Wade had fed him yesterday, the least he could do was return the favor.

 

He returned to the couch, dragging on his jeans and slipping back into his shoes. He paused outside the front door. Wade hadn’t unlocked it when they came in last night, and it had apparently been unlocked all night, so hopefully it would be fine for a quick trip down the street.

 

The morning was cold and Peter wished he’d worn a coat. He could see his breath in front of him. He amused himself with that for a moment as he walked. The city was quiet, well, as quiet as it ever was. His mind slipped back to what Loki had said about the rooster. They had looked so tense. Loki almost looked frightened. Almost. He had probably been trying to play it off, Peter thought. He rubbed his arms as he walked. It must be bad if even Loki was scared. Wade was right, though, if anything happened The Avengers would be able to handle it. 

 

The store clerk looked more than a little annoyed about someone coming in so early in the morning. Which was ridiculous. Why be open so early if you didn’t want customers? Peter tried to give him an apologetic smile, until he heard him muttering something in Spanish that Peter was  _ pretty sure _ were insults. Had he just been called a drug addict?  _ Great customer service _ , he thought as he grabbed his handful of items. He jogged back to the apartment, groceries in hand.

 

Actually  _ cooking _ in Wade’s apartment was a whole other adventure. Wade had a very unique organization system, and it took Peter nearly 5 minutes of digging around before he found a pan he could use to make bacon and eggs. 

 

May had made sure he knew how to cook from as young as he could safely manage it. “There just aren’t enough men who can feed themselves,” she would rant. “Everyone has to eat. It makes no sense that so many men have never learned how to cook.” Peter wasn’t sure that the ability to heat up eggs and bacon counted as cooking, but he’d never paid enough attention when she started ranting like that. He enjoyed the cooking, and spending time with her. It was relaxing.

 

The food was nearly finished when Peter heard Wade start to stir in his room. He had enough time to throw the breakfast on a couple of mismatched plates and set them on the table before Wade stumbled out of his room, wearing nothing but a pair of bright red boxers. Peter had seen Ned in boxers before, no big deal. Hell, he’d seen plenty of guys in various states of undress in the locker room at school. But seeing Wade wander across the living room towards him felt  _ different _ . It made his heart pound in a way that just didn’t make sense. He obviously wasn’t in danger, right?

 

The scars on Wade’s face and hands also covered his back and chest. Everywhere Peter could see, really. He wondered briefly if they might extend past where Peter could see. He shoved that thought aside--it was none of his business--and looked away, realizing he’d been staring. Thankfully Wade seemed half-asleep enough that he hadn’t noticed. Still. They looked painful. Did they ever make movement difficult?

 

Wade managed to collapse safely in a chair at the table. “Hey gorgeous. That smells fantastic.”

 

There was definitely no reason for Peter’s heart to flip at that. He was in a weird situation, that was all. He was in the home of someone who was basically a stranger, and he’d made them breakfast. Of course he’d feel a bit off.

 

The other man blinked slowly at the food in front of him. “Did you cook?”

 

Peter sat down, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “I...yeah. You didn’t have anything in the house, and I figured after yesterday--”

 

“Holy shit, this is amazing! You really know how to take care of a guy.” Wade grinned up at him, having taken a bite of the food while Peter babbled.

 

“It’s just bacon and scrambled eggs,” he mumbled, staring down at his own plate. He was a bit embarrassed by the compliment, but it was mostly Wade’s earnest expression that gave him pause. He ate slowly, struggling not to overanalyze  _ why _ his heart kept doing flips in his chest. So what if Wade had surprisingly well defined muscles, and a smile that made Peter let his guard down, and striking blue eyes that--wait. What? He shook himself. That was ridiculous. He was pretty sure he was straight, after all. He’d only ever been attracted to girls, right? But it was hard to ignore the warmth in his chest when Wade had called him gorgeous. He wasn’t, he knew, but still. It was nice to hear.

 

The application of food seemed to have helped Wade wake up. He was looking at Peter with a vaguely amused expression. “You ok?”

 

Even though Wade’s voice had been soft, Peter still managed a small embarrassing jump. “Yeah,” he said quickly, “Yeah, I’m good.”

 

Wade was smiling at him. “You know you didn’t have to cook anything. I could have gone out and grabbed us something.”

 

Peter shook his head quickly. “You were already so nice to let me stay here overnight so that I didn’t have to deal with May, and then you bought me food last night, and I mean, this was the least I could do, so…”

 

Peter’s word vomit was cut short when his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced down. He had a text from Tony. At 8:12 in the morning. Why would Tony be texting him this early? Peter tried to quell the panic that threatened him as he opened the message.

 

>> May just called, apparently you had debate team this morning. I told her everything was fine. Please text me back that everything is actually fine and I don’t have to come find you.

 

The initial panic faded, but it did nothing for the rush of ice in his chest. Wade noticed the shift in his expression. “Hey, is everything alright?”

 

Peter ran a hand through his hair. “Fffuuu… Itotallyforgotwhatdayitwas,” he said.

 

“Woah. Slow down. Deep breath. Ok, try again in English, please.” Wade’s tone was joking, but his eyes looked worried.

 

Peter took a second deep breath and tried again, “I forgot today was Sunday. There was a debate team thing this morning, and the school called May when I didn’t show. So she called Mr. Stark. Shit. She’s going to be so worried. And mad.” Peter tapped out a quick message as he spoke.

 

> I am SO sorry Mr. Stark! I’m ok, I just forgot what day it was!

 

Then to May:

 

> Hey, Aunt May, sorry I totally forgot about debate this morning. Mr. Stark has kept me super busy, but I’m ok. Sorry to have worried you!

 

Before he had finished the text to May, Tony had replied.

 

>> Where are you?

 

He started to reply, but glanced up when Wade stood up and walked back to his room. Peter’s eyes followed him, looking closely at the scars across his back and down his legs. They definitely had to continue along the skin he couldn’t see. He jumped as his phone buzzed again.

 

>> Peter, where are you? I can come get you if you need help.

 

_ Shit _ .

 

> @DP’s apt.

 

> He let me crash here last night.

 

> I knew May would have a lot of questions and I just wasn’t

 

Peter didn’t get to finish the 3rd message before Tony replied.

 

>> You spent the night with Deadpool? Alone? Where are you? I’m picking you up right now.

 

May also replied:

 

>> I’m glad you’re ok! Are you coming home soon?

 

May first, he decided.

 

> Not sure how soon. I’ll let you know. ILY!

 

>> I love you too. Don’t forget you have school tomorrow.

 

Peter frowned. Of course he wasn’t going to forget about school.

 

Of course, he’d completely forgotten about the debate, so maybe that was fair.

 

> No, please Mr. Stark, I promise I’m fine. You don’t need to do that.

 

The next text took several minutes to come through, though it looked like Tony was writing the whole time. Finally:

 

>> Fine. Text me when you get home. We need to have a talk about where you choose to spend the night.

 

Peter let out a long sigh before finishing his breakfast.

 

“So, everything’s ok?” Wade spoke from his doorway and Peter jumped. In his panic he hadn’t realized Wade had returned to the room.

 

“Oh, yeah, no big deal!” Peter said with a level of confidence he didn’t quite feel. He’d scared both Tony  _ and _ May. Great job.

 

Wade had taken the time that Peter spent panicking to throw on some jeans and a t-shirt with a bright pink unicorn on it. It was cute and ridiculous and Peter couldn’t help but smile at it. He wandered back to the table, took their plates, and continued to the sink. “So, you have school, clubs, Avenging,  _ and _ Spidey patrol?” He asked.

 

“Um. Yeah? It’s not that bad.”

 

Wade tossed him a disbelieving look from where he was leaning against the counter. “When do you even find the time to shit?”

 

Peter felt himself blush. He’d never thought of his schedule as anything noteworthy, but when when Wade listed it like that, it was kind of a lot. He shrugged and let out a small laugh. “I mean, it’s fine. I’ve got really good balance?”

 

Wade laughed, a real genuine laugh. Peter firmly ignored the way the sound made his chest tighten. “Well, none of that, today. You need a break.” He turned back to the sink and set to washing the dishes, waving off Peter’s protests. “You cooked, I’ll clean. Go boot up Pokèmon.”

 

They spent the morning playing the game. It was cute, and fun, and it was easy to get swept up in Wade’s enthusiasm for the game. Peter felt...well, relaxed or happy didn’t really cover it, it was just so easy to feel comfortable and safe.

 

Around noon they stopped to go find food. Wade went to his bedroom and returned with a hoodie on. “You need a jacket?” He asked.

 

“No, I’ll be fine.”

 

Wade raised an eyebrow before going back into his room to retrieve a smaller hoodie. It still swallowed Peter’s smaller body, but it was warm, and kind of cozy.  _ Because it smells like Wade _ , his mind supplied. Of course it smelled like Wade, it was his hoodie. Peter decided he just wasn’t going to think about it anymore.

 

As they left, Wade didn’t bother to lock the door behind them. “You should really lock that, you know.”

 

Wade laughed. “Nah. People know I live here. No one is going to fuck with my shit.”

 

They talked in more detail about the different Pokèmon types. Really, the system was more complicated that Peter had given it credit for. Wade was going over the strengths and weaknesses of poison-type Pokèmon--the next gym fight--as they walked. There were definitely more people out and about compared to what Peter had seen this morning. A few people nodded or waved at Wade as they passed, but others just crossed the street when they caught sight of them. If Wade noticed, he did a good job of hiding it.

 

Peter almost laughed as they entered the store he’d gone to that morning. The clerk called out to Wade in Spanish,  _ “What are you doing up before noon, Wade?” _

 

_ “Wouldn’t you like to know?” _ Wade replied, along with calling the clerk something that sounded like “ _ Mamahuevo _ ”. Peter was immediately glad he’d been paying more attention in Spanish lately, since apparently Wade was fluent. 

 

They grabbed their snacks and headed up to the counter. “Who is this?” The clerk asked, sliding into English. He either didn’t realize or didn’t care that he’d called Peter a drug addict that morning.

 

_ “He’s my friend. You see him, you treat him right.” _ Wade replied in Spanish.

 

The clerk scoffed.  _ “You don’t have any friends.”  _ But he was smiling as he grabbed Wade in a one-armed hug on the way out.

 

Peter couldn’t help but smile the whole way back to the apartment.

 

They spent most of the rest of the day playing Pokèmon and eating snacks. Wade really enjoyed talking and teaching Peter the history of the series as they played, holding up the conversation enough that Peter could just relax and listen.

 

Peter changed into his suit around dinner time to head home. Wade let him know he had a job and would probably be out of town for a day or two. Peter told him to be safe and webbed his way towards home.

 

He landed on the roof, quickly changing before jumping down to enter from the front door. The smell of May’s cooking wafted towards him. As soon as the door was open he strode over and pulled May into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry for worrying you.”

 

“You should be,” but there was no heat in her voice.

 

The rest of the night flew by between dinner and rushing to finish his homework for the next day. Around midnight he remembered his promise to text Tony.

 

> Hey, Mr. Stark, sorry it’s so late. I had dinner and homework for school as soon as I got home, but I’m good.

 

He’d barely hit send before his phone rang.

 

“Are you alright?” Tony said immediately.

 

“What? Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

Tony let out an exasperated sigh. “Because you decided to have a slumber party with a hitman who is literally best known for indiscriminately killing anyone who annoys him!”

 

It was Peter’s turn to scoff. “Mr. Stark, Deadpool isn’t like that. I mean, I know that’s his reputation, but he really isn’t.”

 

“He...you… Just please be careful, Peter. Your aunt is counting on me to keep you safe, and pulling shit like that is the opposite of safe.”

 

Peter glanced to the door, listening to make sure May was in her room before he replied. “Look. I just...I needed somewhere that wasn’t... _ here _ .”

 

“Next time just stay with me, then. Or fuck. Go with Steve. Literally  _ anyone _ that isn’t an unstable murderer.”

 

Peter’s grip on his phone tightened. “I’m sorry,” he bit out, not feeling the least bit apologetic.

 

“You just have to think, kid. You’re smarter than this.”

 

“I have to get ready for bed,” he said cooly.

 

“Good. Sleep is good. School is good. Come by tomorrow, I think your suit needs some repairs. And maybe a few upgrades.”

 

Tony was worried about him. Of course he was. It was hard to be too upset when he thought of that. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Stark. Good night.” He hung up the phone before Tony could reply and collapsed onto his bed. Tony didn’t get it. He hadn’t met Wade, he’d only met Deadpool.  _ Wade  _ wasn’t like that.

 

**Wade**

 

The job should have only taken a day or two, max. Instead it took over a week. Someone, and he didn’t know who, had gotten word that he was coming and there had been at least  _ double _ the security detail. Of course he’d still managed to complete the job, he wasn’t an amateur. It had just taken way more effort and ammunition than he’d been planning on. He was going to have to renegotiate his price. At least that might be fun.

 

He stumbled into his apartment and made straight for the bathroom. He pulled his mask off and tossed it into the tub. He was halfway out of the suit before he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He had a gun in his hand before he was able to recognize that movement had just been his own reflection. Right. Peter had moved the towel that he usually kept over the mirror, and he’d been too lazy to put it back up.

 

_ Maybe he likes to watch himself jerk off. _ Yellow suggested.

 

_ You’re being disgusting _ . White groused.

 

“Shut the fuck up.” Wade grumbled before throwing the towel back over the mirror. He pulled the suit the rest of the way off and tossed it into the tub as well, before turning the faucet on. It took four attempts before he could scrub at the suit without the water turning red. He quickly wrung it out before tossing it into the sink to finish dealing with later. 

 

He waited while the shower warmed as hot as it could go before stepping into the spray, letting the heat burn through his scars. He’d figured out pretty quickly that the water here didn’t get hot enough to hurt, ( _ not enough, not really _ ) the most it would do was sting. He wasn’t sure if it was due to his scars or the shitty cheap landlord and his flagrant code cutting. Probably both.

 

Wade hissed as a bullet worked it’s way free from his stomach. When had it even gotten lodged in there? The pain vanished as the bullet fell with a clink onto the floor of the tub. He was finally able to relax. He idly wondered what Peter had been up to the last couple of weeks. He’d meant to text him, to let him know he was alright. He hadn’t. But he’d meant to. He hoped Peter hadn’t worried.

 

_ He probably thought about us while he touched himself _ .

 

“Can you just stop with this?”

 

_ What about you, Mr. Pedo-Boner? _ Yellow taunted.  _ Can you stop _ ?

 

Wade reached forward and turned the knob until the water was as cold as it could get. That  _ did _ hurt. But it was easier to focus on the pain to distract himself. He might not be able to keep himself from being attracted to Peter, but he would draw the line at jerking off thinking about him.

 

_ But Spider-Man was ok? _

 

_ I didn’t know that Spidey was a kid, did I? _

 

Yellow cackled. It was infuriating.

 

He stepped out of the shower and grabbed for his towel, only to find it missing. Right. He only had the two towels in here. He thought about grabbing the one on the mirror but he didn’t want to. The less he had to look at himself, the better.

 

He left the bathroom and spotted the towel draped over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. The room was dark enough that he’d almost missed the box that sat on the table.

 

_ For security reasons, baggage left unattended will be removed and destroyed _ .

 

Thanks for nothing, White. 

 

There was a sticky note on the box. “Happy Birthday! --Peter”

 

Wade glanced around. Even in the dark he was certain he was alone in the apartment. Unless Peter was hiding in his bedroom? But that was ridiculous, and didn’t make any sense. He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the box.

 

Peter had found him a stuffed Noibat. There was a second note along with the plushie, “I saw this at the store and thought you’d like it.” Jesus Christ, what had he ever done to deserve someone like Peter in his life.

 

_ Not a fucking thing and you know it _ . _ Don’t worry, he’ll figure that out all too soon. Then it’ll just be us. Like always _ .


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo, moving on, moving on!
> 
> In case anyone gets confused, the first section of "Rise Above This" takes place immediately before the last segment of this chapter. 
> 
> And it looks like the SpideyPool side of FBiNS is getting it's own sub-plot. :O

_ I never thought I could feel so small _

_ But you're the one that can't live without attention _

_ I never thought I would lose this all _

_ But you're the one who needs the fucking intervention _

  
  


January

 

**Peter**

 

The night was well below freezing. The whole of Queens was covered in a thick sheet of ice. Peter knew he should be properly patrolling, but instead he found himself curled up near a heater on a roof, the radiant heat of the unit raising the ambient temperature up from freezing. His life was kind of shit at the moment. He didn’t need to feel shitty  _ and _ cold.

 

Either Flash hadn’t gotten what he wanted for Christmas, or else he’d realized that Peter was only trapped in High School with him for a few more months. Either way, he was taking every opportunity to make Peter’s school life as difficult as possible. On top of that, he’d managed to fail a test. A trig test. Over shit he  _ knew _ . But he’d been so preoccupied by that guy who’d decided to try to take out a bus full of children--Cain Marko, Tony had told him later; he went by Juggernaut--that he hadn’t been able to concentrate. May had been  _ beyond _ disappointed in him. “You’re better than this,” she’d said quietly. She’d even asked if she needed to contact Tony to put his internship on hold. He let out a low groan and pillowed his face against his arms.

 

“Rough day, Webs?”

 

Peter let out an embarrassing yelp and jumped at the sudden break in silence. “Wa--Deadpool?” Peter caught himself. The merc was in full gear. Probably wasn’t entirely  _ Wade _ right then.

 

“You doing ok?” Deadpool asked, sitting down on the ledge next to him, legs freely dangling over the side. Peter wondered if he’d been as reckless with his own safety  _ before _ .

 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Peter replied in his best  _ this is fine, everything is fine _ voice.

 

“Uh huh.” Deadpool didn’t sound convinced. “What’s up, Itsy-Bitsy?”

 

Peter didn’t have the energy to balk at the new nickname. “A lot of little things, I guess?” He offered.

 

“Like?” Deadpool wasn’t going to let it go.

 

“It’s just…” He paused, trying to get his thoughts together. “So, there’s this guy at school who is always kind of a dick to me, but lately he’s been so much worse than normal. And it’s only me. Not that I want him harassing other people,  _ but _ . Why just me? And then I totally spaced on a test after helping Mr. Loki save those kids, and May is  _ so _ upset with me and is threatening to keep me from doing stuff with Mr. Stark. And I think Mr. Stark is already getting kind of fed up with me, and…” Peter stopped. Saying it out loud made everything seem so childish. He was complaining about a bully and failing a math test. No wonder everyone kept treating him like a kid. “Anyway, it’s fine,” he said quickly, very glad that Deadpool couldn’t see his expressions through the mask.

 

After a moment, Deadpool quietly asked, “Want me to hurt him for you?” 

 

Peter spun to look at him, which set Deadpool to laughing. He hoped he was just joking. Better safe than sorry. “Yeah, no. Please don’t.”

 

Deadpool reached over and patted him on the back. “Don’t worry. If I’m going to rearrange someone’s face, it’s because they deserve it,” he said easily. Peter considered asking what make someone  _ “deserve it” _ before deciding he didn’t want to know.

 

They sat together in a companionable silence for a bit, but it was eventually broken by his stomach growling.

 

“You hungry?” Deadpool asked. “We could get tacos and head back to my place for a while? I’m pretty sure no one is dumb enough to try anything in this weather.”

 

Peter smiled. “That sounds really good. I have to go grab my stuff, but I’ll meet you there?”

 

Deadpool took his order and they split up. Peter retrieved his bag from the alley where he’d stashed it, and then webbed his way to Deadpool’s as quickly as he could. He needed to talk to Mr. Stark again soon. The new web formula wasn’t standing up to the freezing temperatures as well as it should, leaving it brittle at points of contact within just a couple of minutes. 

 

He landed outside the apartment and quickly knocked on the door.

 

“Yeah!” Deadpool--Wade?--called and Peter took that as an invitation. He stepped inside and let out a sigh. It was nice and warm against the freezing cold outside. Wade was nowhere to be seen, he must have been changing. Peter tossed his bag on the table next to the food and set to stripping out of the suit. He was pulling out his clothes when Wade came out of the bedroom and stopped.

 

“Hey! Thanks for grabbing food!” Peter smiled, pulling on his jeans. Wade didn’t move. “Everything ok?” Peter stopped to look at him, shirt in hand.

 

“I forgot something.” Wade announced and turned back into his bedroom.

 

Peter pulled his shirt on and was too cold and hungry to put much thought into Wade's behavior. “Could you grab a blanket?” He called towards the bedroom before pulling his food out and curling up on the couch. Wade appeared a few moments later and tossed what appeared to be his comforter at Peter before before moving to the bathroom and washing his face.

 

“You good?” Peter asked.

 

“Yeah,” Wade replied with a smile.

 

Peter pulled the blanket up around him. It was warm and smelled like citrus and menthol--like Wade--definitely his comforter. Wade grabbed the food bag and pulled the blanket over himself too. They ate in comfortable silence. One of them would occasionally share a thought, but mostly they were focused on eating. Peter shifted on the couch, stretching his legs out, and his toes brushed against Wade's leg.

 

“Your toes are like ice!” Wade said.

 

Peter pulled his feet back. “Sorry!”

 

“It's ok. It just surprised me.” Wade reached out and pulled Peter's feet back towards him. “Are your feet not protected from the cold in your suit?”

 

“Not really.” Peter shrugged. “Not that one, at least. I have a suit for cold weather, but I wasn't thinking when I changed earlier and then I didn't want to go back home…”

 

After a few moments Wade grabbed the trash and stood up. “You want to play a game?”

 

Peter smiled. “Sounds good!”

 

Wade tossed a controller to Peter and booted up the system. When he sat back down Peter immediately scooted his feet back over. Wade rubbed his toes through the blanket while the game loaded. They played for a couple of hours until Peter's phone beeped, signaling that he needed to head home. 

 

“Thank you, Wade. This was so much better than patrolling.”

 

“Yeah?” Wade grinned. “Let's do it again next week, then. Taco Tuesdays!”

 

Peter returned the grin, “Taco Tuesdays,” he agreed.

 

He went back to the table and pulled off his street clothes, changing quickly. Wade was watching him when he turned back around. Peter felt himself flush, thankfully he already had his mask on. 

 

“You wanna meet here, or?”

 

“Sounds good,” Wade replied. Peter stepped out the door and back into the cold.

  
  


February 

 

Valentine's Day was coming up, and it looks like Cupid had vomited all over the school. Peter usually didn't mind Valentine's Day, but this year everything about it just seemed to get on his nerves. The pink was too bright, and the flirty behavior of his classmates was exceptionally obnoxious. 

 

He thought Ned and MJ were being extra buddy-buddy lately, but when Peter had asked, Ned had just sputtered and looked shock at the suggestion. 

 

Maybe it had been foolish to hope that he could escape the topic that seemed to be on everyone’s mind by hanging out with Wade. Instead he just barely held back a sigh when Wade asked if he any plans for the holiday.

 

His emotions were complicated enough without being reminded of them constantly. “Not really, no. I’m probably just gonna go patrol. Same o’, same ‘ol.”

 

Wade fixed him with a warm smile. “What? Cute guy like you doesn’t have a girlfriend? Or is there just no one at that fancy-shmancy school of yours that catches your eye?”

 

He really wished that he’d quit complimenting him like that. Or at least not do it when his face wasn’t hidden by the mask. “No. Well.” He ran a hand through his hair. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot,” he admitted. 

 

Wade nudged him with his knee. “Ooooh. Do tell.”

 

Peter quickly shook his head. This wasn’t a conversation he was going to have, if he could help it. “No. It’s stupid, anyway.”

 

“You should tell her how you feel, kiddo. I bet she likes you back.” Wade had the gall to wink at him with this stupid blue eyes and his stupid adorable grin. 

 

* * *

 

True to his word, Peter was out patrolling on Valentine’s Day. So far the afternoon had been pretty uneventful, but he was pretty confident that the night was going to take a turn for the worse. 

 

“Heeeey! Spidey!” Peter glanced down at Deadpool’s waving form. He rolled his eyes before dropping down near him. “What are you doing out here? You didn’t tell your girlie?”

 

“Girlie?” Peter arched an eyebrow, unsure how well that expression would translate through his mask. “Nevermind.” He considered the question. Why couldn’t he just  _ lie _ like normal people? “I couldn’t get up the nerve to talk to them,” he admitted.

 

Deadpool clapped his hands over his face in exaggerated dismay. “Oh no!” Quicker than Peter would have guessed, Deadpool had pulled him up into his arms, swinging him around in a hug.

 

“Deadpool, what the hell?” Peter pushed himself free, stumbling back a few steps.

 

“You wanna take a break? Grab some pizza or something?” Deadpool didn’t seem phased by Peter rebuking him.

 

“I’m working.” Peter replied shortly, crossing his arms. “No date for you, either?” He’d never really put all that much thought into Deadpool’s private life. Well, not outside of the small but increasingly noisy part of his brain that seemed content  _ always _ wondering about Deadpool.

 

His question got a mirthless, self-deprecating laugh. “Nope. If you haven’t guessed, Halloween’s more my holiday, baby boy.”

 

Peter honestly wasn’t sure what to do with his warring feelings about  _ that _ nickname.

  
  


April

 

Honestly, Peter was getting tired of giant creatures barreling through Queens, doing their damndest to level entire city blocks. This was twice in four months. TWICE! It was even a different guy. How do things like this even happen more than once? To make matters worse, the huge green whatever-it-was was staying in heavily populated areas, greatly limiting Peter’s offensive options.

 

Deadpool, apparently, didn’t share his concerns about collateral damage, judging by sound of gunfire Peter could hear from the other side of the street.

 

“Deadpool! You can’t fire a gun in the middle of Queens!” He yelled as the beast-man shrugged off his webbing like it was nothing. 

 

“What do you expect me to do?” Deadpool countered.

 

“Not that--” Peter’s argument died as the beast knocked him out of the air. He made to correct his trajectory, but wasn’t fast enough, as it’s tail slammed into him right before he shot out a new web. 

 

Peter hit the ground  _ hard _ , with the majority of the momentum being caught by his arm. He wasn’t sure if he yelled or not; for a moment his entire world narrowed to the sound and feel of his arm breaking. When he managed to shake off the cloud of pain, he turned and saw that Deadpool had managed to distract their foe. “Karen, I could use a hand.”

 

“What’s the plan, Peter?”

 

“D’you think a taser web will stop him?”

 

He didn’t bother to watch the calculations that ran across the side of the HUD. “It’s worth a try.”

 

The taser web did the trick. Everytime the beast struggled, he was shocked again. 

 

And hey. The Suits were back. Four tall men in well tailored suits had appeared. Three of them herded the  _ thing _ into a large van. The fourth approached him. “You have our thanks, Spider-Man.” 

 

Peter blinked up at him. “Who’re you?” He managed lamely.

 

He handed Peter a card. “Are you injured?” The man asked.

 

“He’s fine. I got him.” Deadpool took the business card from Peter’s hand and gave it a quick glance. “You just worry about that guy.” Peter let out a whine when Deadpool picked him up. “Quit wiggling before you hurt yourself.” 

 

Peter did his best to hold still as Deadpool followed his directions back to his stuff. “Was it a guy?”

 

“Used to be a guy, yeah.” 

 

“Used to be?”

 

“Worry about it later, Webs.”

 

Peter let out a sound of discontent, but he didn’t really want to argue right then. 

 

“What a stupid way to get hurt,” he complained once they had retrieved his bag. “He used me like a cat toy.” He deactivated the suit with his good arm. So long as he moved carefully, Peter was able to pull off his suit and mask without incident. Deadpool held out his jeans, but when Peter reached for them, he pulled back.

 

“Nope. Sorry gorgeous, you have to let me help.”

 

Peter felt himself go red. It was as much out of frustration as embarrassment. “I can dress myself.”

 

“Aww, did I make you blush?”

 

“No. My arm just hurts.”

 

He was holding his jeans out again. “Put your arm on my shoulder to balance.” 

 

Peter frowned but followed his instructions, and carefully stepping into his jeans. “This is humiliating,” he muttered as Deadpool pulled them up. Peter tried to fasten his pants, but Deadpool batted his good hand away.

 

“Careful, don’t want me to catch anything important,” he practically purred as he fastened the zipper and button himself. One of them was going to die before the end of this.

 

Deadpool grabbed a shirt from his bag. “Easy,” he said quietly, his teasing tone gone, as he fed Peter’s broken arm through it first before helping him get his head and good arm in. Once Peter finished straightening his shirt, Deadpool pulled a second shirt over his head. 

 

“Wha…?” Peter’s question was muffled.

 

“Trust me,” he said by way of explanation. He carefully pulled the shirt around and guided Peter’s injured elbow almost into the arm hole on that side. Peter winced trying to bend his arm enough to fit it through the hole at such a weird angle. “Stop,” Deadpool told him suddenly. “Don’t try to help, just let me do this.” He pulled the shirt around, and and fed the wrist of Peter’s broken arm through the other arm hold of the shirt. After a bit of pulling he stepped back. “Now, relax your arm.”

 

That was easier said than done, but Peter did his best and realized his arm was resting in a makeshift sling. It actually felt a lot better with the added support. “I....thank you. How’d you know how to do that?”

 

“Oh, I know all kinds of fun and exciting things, baby boy,” Deadpool’s teasing purr returned, and his words settled in Peter’s stomach now that the worst of the pain was gone. “Let’s get you home.”

 

Peter lead the rest of the way to the apartment he shared with May. Deadpool stood uncertainly outside of the building. “You can come inside, if you want?” Peter offered. After a moment’s hesitation, Deadpool followed him up the stairs. 

 

“Hey, Aunt May! This is--”

 

Peter winced as May dropped the plate she’d been drying off. At least it didn’t break. “Deadpool?!”

 

Oh, right. He didn’t exactly have a great reputation. “Uh, yeah.”

 

Deadpool gave a small wave. “Hi.”

 

He gave a small yelp when May grabbed his good arm and pulled him behind her. “What do you want?”

 

“May, stop! He helped me!”

 

“Helped you?” She asked, her eyes not leaving Deadpool.

 

Deadpool held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Feel better, Peter. I’ll get out of your hair. Have a good day, ma’am.”

 

Peter pulled free from May’s grip. “DP, wait!”

 

“DP?” May echoed, sounding incredulous. “What, are you two friends now?”

 

Even through the mask Peter could see Deadpool’s deer-in-the-headlights expression. He mouthed,  _ “I’m sorry!” _ . “Yeah? Kind of.”

 

“Why are you anywhere near my nephew?”

 

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Peter said, trying to redirect her focus. “I got hurt, and he helped me get back home.”

 

It worked. Peter knew May’s nursemode when he saw it. “What? Let me look.”

 

_ Hell _ . “No, Aunt May, it’s fine, really. It’s probably just a sprain.” His words did nothing to dissuade her from gently removing the sling so that she could get a better look at his arm.

 

“This is  _ not _ a sprain.” Her eyes snapped back towards Deadpool. “What happened?”

 

Deadpool, apparently, wasn’t used to being questioned. Or being held accountable, judging by the slightly panicked edge to this voice. “I came across him like that?”

 

“Peter?”

 

Peter fought the urge to look away. He didn’t like lying to May, and he wasn’t any good at it. “Some guy jumped me… I fought back.” There. That wasn’t  _ technically _ a lie.

 

“So I should see the other guy?” She looked unimpressed.

 

Deadpool let out a small laugh, which was silenced by Peter’s glare. “You should. He might have hurt my arm, but he’s the one who got arrested.”

 

She let out a long sigh before releasing Peter’s arm. “Alright. Don’t move. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

 

Peter’s eyes went wide. “Ah, no! That’s not necessary. Like, I said, it’s definitely just a sprain or--”

 

“Oh? Did you magically grow an extra joint that I don’t know about?”

 

“Wha...no?”

 

“Then it’s not a sprain.” She walked off to her room to gather her things.

 

“You can’t sprain your forearm, kiddo.” Deadpool informed him.

 

Peter sighed. “Ok, fine. But I don’t need to go to a hospital. I just need to keep still, and it’ll be healed on it’s own in a week. Two, at the most.”

 

Deadpool just shrugged as May returned.

 

“You should come too, Deadpool. I’ll treat you to some lunch.”

 

“Oh.” He looked taken aback. “That’s very kind, but also really not necessary.”

 

May gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. “What are you talking about? You helped Peter get home safe. It’s the least I can do. Besides, you said it yourself. You’re a friend of Peter’s, aren’t you?” 

  
  


After the entirely unnecessary trip to the hospital, Peter and Deadpool had gone by The Avengers Tower. An aborted attempt at watching Big Hero 6 later had found them back at Wade’s apartment finishing the film. Then, naturally, after the craziness of the day, Peter had managed to forget the movie.

 

Peter made the increasingly familiar trek back to Wade’s apartment to grab the DVD. He had just finished dinner and homework, and the sun had just slipped below the horizon. In spite of the warm day as the sunlight faded he was glad for his hoodie.

 

He walked down the steps to Wade’s door and just lifted his hand to knock when a loud shout followed by the sound of something breaking issued from behind the door. Panic flooded Peter’s chest as he flung open the door. The apartment was in complete disarray. The table was broken into several pieces and scattered around the room. All of the cabinets and drawers were open, their contents littered the floor, shattered.The couch had been overturned. The only light in the room was from the street lamp outside, shining through a window. The dark curtain that usually blocked the light was missing entirely, a chunk of drywall hanging from where it had been attached to the wall. At least a dozen glass bottles were broken across the walls and floor.

 

His Senses were screaming at him to run, but in the middle of the chaos was Wade, and Wade alone. As Peter stepped over the threshold, Wade tossed the chair he’d been holding over his head into the wall, where it broke apart. Peter took another slow step inside and broken glass crunched under his shoes. In an instant Wade’s gun was in his hand and it was trained on Peter’s face. Both of them stood frozen. Wade’s sides were heaving, and even in the low light Peter could see tears on his face. For several long moments Wade’s unsteady breathing was the only sound in the room. Finally, “Peter. Leave,  _ now _ .”

 

Peter ignored his instincts and took another step inside. “No,” he let the door close behind him. 

 

Wade cocked the gun. “I’m serious, Peter, get out.” 

 

But Wade’s finger wasn’t on the trigger. He held up both hands and continued to move slowly and deliberately across the floor, each step loud in his ears as he walked across the broken glass. His Senses were swinging wildly to the point that it almost made him nauseous. They urged him to web away the gun. It would be the smart move, the safe move. But Peter knew it was also the wrong move. 

 

Wade kept the gun pointed at his face until they were just a few feet apart. Peter reached out and carefully removed the gun from Wade’s hand, hoping he didn’t look as surprised as he felt when Wade let him take it, and set it on the counter. With the gun gone, Wade crumpled to his knees, connecting hard with the glass covered floor. Peter knelt carefully in front of him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Wade?”

 

For several long moments Wade was silent. When he did speak his voice was completely broken. “I’m so sorry, Peter. I’d never hurt you. You know that, right?” Peter did know that. Wade wouldn’t hurt him. Deadpool, however… “I don’t want anyone… I don’t want  _ you _ to see me like this.” 

 

Peter shifted forward and Wade willingly leaned his head down until it was resting on Peter’s shoulder. “I know, Wade, it’s ok,” he said quietly. He ran his hands up and down Wade’s back, absently absorbing the patterns of the scars. “Want to talk about it?” He asked after a bit. Before he even finished his question Wade was shaking his head against Peter’s shoulder. Peter made a hum of acknowledgement, but otherwise they remained silent, the only movement his hands on Wade’s back. 

 

After what might have been an hour, Wade took a slow deep breath and sat up. “You have school tomorrow, and I need to clean this shit up.”

 

“Do you need some help?” Peter asked. In spite of the silence, his shirt was damp where Wade’s face had been.

 

“No. No, thank you. I’m good.”

 

Peter nodded slowly. “Text me tomorrow, ok?” A look of relief passed over Wade’s face.

 

“I will.”

 

Peter stood and offered Wade his hand. After a brief moment Wade took the help, letting Peter pull him to his feet. Once they were both standing Peter pulled him into a hug. The man wrapped around him and clung for several long moments before breaking away.  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

 

Peter smiled and backed towards the door. “If you need me just text, ok?”

 

Wade nodded. “Ok.”

 

Peter opened the door and stood in the doorway, glancing back at the wrecked apartment for a moment. Before he could overthink it, he shut the door and turned around. “I can’t leave you alone to deal with this.”

 

Wade looked startled by the change in plans. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine, Peter. Really.”

 

“Good. Be fine. I’m staying.” Peter said before shooting May a quick text letting her know he’d be out. “There, it’s done. May knows I’m busy, so I can’t go home now.” Peter flashed him a smile before stepping back into the room properly.

 

They worked together in relative silence. Since all of the floors in the living room and kitchen were linoleum, it only took about an hour to sweep up and toss the debris. Peter was immediately aware of when Wade picked up the gun again, even though he couldn’t see it. But Wade simply tucked it into his waistband and kept cleaning.

 

With one hand Peter grabbed the leg of the couch and returned it to its upright position. “There.” He glanced around, making sure there wasn’t anything else to do, and caught Wade’s stunned expression. He grinned before flopping down on the couch.

 

“You’re staying the night?” Wade asked after a moment, walking around the couch so they could see each other.

 

“Yeah, I told you, I texted May. Wanna watch a movie or something?”

 

“Really?” Wade asked.

 

“Yeah? Why not?” He knew Wade was asking about more than just the movie suggestion.

 

“I just thought...after...anyway, yes. Let me just put this away real quick,” he said, motioning towards the gun. Wade reappeared a moment later and started to sit down.

 

“Nope, pick something to watch first,” Peter said, using his leg to block his attempt. 

 

Wade let out a small huff, but grabbed  _ Stardust _ before flopping next to Peter on the couch. He was uncharacteristically quiet, and Peter didn’t push him to talk. He shifted, his leg pressing firmly against Peter’s, and stretched his arms over the back of the couch.

 

Peter’s heart jumped as the warmth of Wade’s leg spread against his. He took a slow breath and, hoping he wasn’t misreading the situation, scooted over, tucking himself against Wade’s side. Wade’s arm slipped off the back of the couch, and wrapped around his shoulders. He took another slow deep breath, inhaling Wade’s smell, before settling his cheek on Wade’s chest and half-heartedly returning his attention to the movie. The warmth and pressure from Wade’s arm, combined with the slow steady beat of his heart slowly lulled Peter to sleep.

  
  


**Wade**

 

Wade could feel the moment Peter fell asleep, his weight shifting more completely onto his shoulder. He shifted carefully to make sure Peter wouldn’t fall, and continued to stare at the TV without actually seeing the movie.

 

He couldn’t understand. Not only had Peter seen him freaking the fuck out and stayed, Wade had fucking  _ threatened _ him and he hadn’t even flinched. He’d walked right up to him like it was nothing. He’d held him until he was calm again, and then, after receiving every possible chance to leave, had stayed and helped him clean?

 

He felt so tired. He always did after an attack like that. Even White and Yellow were quiet for the moment.

 

The weight of Peter leaning on him was comforting. He could definitely fall asleep if he moved to the bed, but he wasn’t even remotely interested in getting up. Still, as Peter softly snored and the end credits played, he accepted that movement was inevitable. 

 

Wade carefully slid around so that he could lift Peter, and carried him into the bedroom and tucked him into the bed. He retrieved Peter’s phone from the couch and after double-checking that it had an alarm set he plugged it in before slipping out and shutting the door behind him.

 

He wandered back into the now barren living room and collapsed on the couch. He’d just starting thinking about how lonely it was without White and Yellow’s constant commentary when Yellow spoke up, suggesting how wonderful it would be to go back and crawl into bed with Peter. Wade did his best to ignore it as the voices started to argue.

 

The movie’s title page played the same snippet of music over and over and he laid in the dark. His head hurt. He closed his eyes.

 

The sound of movement woke up him.

 

Peter shuffled out of the bedroom, looking half awake. “Wade?” He sounded confused. “Did you carry me to bed?”

 

Wade sat up slowly, his head pounding. “Yeah.” 

 

_ Oh, so witty first thing in the morning, _ Yellow mocked.

 

“Oh, ok.” Peter mumbled through a yawn. He was fucking adorable. “I gotta get going to school. Are you ok?”

 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Wade smiled as he stood up and stretched. He’d been better. But he usually felt considerably worse after a night like that. 

 

Peter walked over and wrapped his arms around his middle. Wade returned the brief hug and watched as Peter headed out the door.

  
  


May

 

**Peter**

 

Peter woke with a jump. He was on his feet and moving before he'd thought about it. May had screamed. He was across the apartment in seconds. It wasn't until his hand was on the door that he recognized May's steady breathing through the door.  _ Just a nightmare _ , he realized. He slipped back to his room dramatically more quietly than his initial trip.

 

Closing the bedroom door, Peter flopped heavily back onto his bed, his heart still hammering in his chest. He took a few deep breaths and reached for his phone. 1:44. He definitely needed to go can to sleep.

 

Except he couldn't. By 2:30 the sheer frustration of being unable to sleep was keeping him awake.  He grabbed his phone for had to be the hundredth time since he woke up, and without thinking sent a text to Wade.

 

> Uuuugh.

 

He dropped his head back to the plow and stared at the bars holding up the top bunk. A few moments later his text notification pinged. Frowning he lifted the phone back up. 

 

>> Can't sleep?

 

_ Shit _ .

 

> I'm so sorry I didn't been to wake you up!

 

He draped his arm over his eyes and groaned. The sun wasn't even up and he was already causing problems for people.

 

>> You're good. I wasn't asleep. What's up?

 

Peter really debated telling him that everything was fine and to just go to sleep. He really did.

 

> Nightmare. Can't fall back asleep.

 

Wade's reply came quickly.

 

>> Want to come over?

 

> No, you need to go to sleep.

 

>> So do you.

 

Peter smiled.

 

> Fair.

 

The next reply took a few minutes. 

 

>> Want to talk about the dream?

 

> I don't remember much. I woke up and thought Aunt May was screaming. I was all the way to her room before I realized it was a dream. That was two fucking hours ago. I just can't get back to sleep.

 

>> Language, baby boy. ;)

 

Peter rolled his eyes.

 

> Why do you call me that?

 

>> Should I stop?

 

Peter hesitated for a long moment.

 

> Why are you awake?

 

He asked instead.

 

>> Uh huh. You can't avoid your problems ya know.

>> You should know I never sleep. I run off the power of sunshine, rainbows, and imagination.

 

Peter couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up.

 

> I've seen you sleep!

 

>> It's your fault. You didn't believe hard enough.

 

Peter could barely stifle his laughter at that. 

 

> Oh I'm sure sorry I'll try harder moving forward.

 

>> You sure you don't want to come over?

 

> Can't. I have school tomorrow.

 

>> You should check yourself out of school tomorrow.

 

> I can't do that!

 

>> I'll call and pretend to be May and check you out ;)

 

> I think they just might be able to tell.

 

>> Want me to come over, then? I could help you sleep. ;)

 

Peter's heart jumped at the suggestion. Before he had a chance to think to hard into what Wade meant his phone buzzed again.

 

>> I used to have killer insomnia, I can show you some tricks.

 

Peter looked at the clock, almost 3.

 

> You can't wake up Aunt May.

 

He warned.

 

>> Be there in 5.

 

Then, a few minutes later. 

 

>> Open the door.

 

Peter snuck across the living room and opened the front door. Wade slipped in, moving more quietly than someone his size should be able to manage. Peter put an exaggerated finger over his lips and they moved back to his room. As Wade closed the door behind them Peter was struck by how strange it felt to have Wade in his space. Not at all a bad feeling, just  _ strange _ . The forced closeness set his heart pounding again. 

 

“So you used to have insomnia?” He asked.

 

“Shh,” Wade replied quietly. “You need to go back to sleep.” Wade turned his lamp on and turned off the overhead light. He pointed to the bottom bunk. “Lay down.”

 

That did nothing to help his self-conscious feelings but he followed the instructions. “Wade, what…” 

 

But Wade has a finger to his lips. “No talking.” He handed Peter a book. Peter flipped the book to look at the front cover,  _ The Hobbit _ . “Read.”

 

“I thought I was supposed to be sleeping?”

 

Wade flashed him a warm smile. “Trust me.”

 

Peter frowned but started to read. He glanced back when Wade pulled his desk chair over to sit next to the bed and began to slowly work his fingers through Peter's hair. A warmth spread across Peter's chest as he looked over at Wade. Wade's eyes were closed and he was leaning back in the chair. His breathing was slow and even. Peter took the moment to stare at the features of his face, silently studying the shape of Wade's nose and mouth. As his eyes slipped up to Wade's he was met with piercing blue. Wade had caught him staring. He smiled at Peter, “Read.”

 

By the second chapter Peter's eyelids were feeling heavy. Wade gently took the book from his hands. “Close your eyes, get comfortable.” Wade's voice was deep and quiet. Peter rolled over and closed his eyes. After a moment Wade's fingers returned to his hair. 

 

The sound of his alarm made Peter jump. He sat up, looking around his room, but he was alone. Had it been a dream? Except  _ The Hobbit _ was still sitting on his nightstand. So, no, Wade had definitely been there. 

 

> Thank you.

 

Less than a minute later Wade replied,

 

>> Any time, baby boy ;)

 

> Get some sleep. :P

  
  


Peter had just finished his final class of the day when he saw the news. A bomb had gone off in a remote village in western Africa, leveling it. What the news seemed more interested in, however, was the appearance of Tony Stark and his assistance with the rescue and cleanup. Peter was glad he’d gotten the chance to throw Tony and Loki their anniversary party before this had happened.

 

Ned caught up with him as he walked down the steps, and they commisserated over the unreasonable homework load they’d been given. “Who assigns this much homework on a Monday?” Ned had griped before they split off.

 

Peter was nearly home when his phone buzzed. A text from Wade:

 

>> Hey, baby boy, you think you could come over for a while?

 

Peter frowned. Something felt wrong, but he couldn’t place it.

 

> Sure, omw. Everything ok?

 

Wade didn’t respond. Peter’s dread shifted to panic as he tore down the street. Wade’s apartment was dramatically closer to school than is own, but that didn’t stop the trip from feeling like it took a year. 

 

He jumped down the steps two at a time, knocked once, and opened the door without waiting for a reply. Peter barely noticed that all the furniture that had been broken the last time he was there had been replaced before his eyes settled on Wade. He was sitting in the corner of the room. It looked like he’d torn his mask off and thrown it across the room. His eyes were wide, and his deep ragged breaths.

 

“Wade?” Peter said quietly, crossing the room. Wade jumped a bit and turned distant eyes towards Peter. “Hey,” Peter knelt next to Wade. Seeing Wade’s eyes so completely unfocused explained why his Spidey Senses were on high alert. He took a slow deep breath and spoke again, “Wade, I’m going to take your gun from you, ok?” If Wade heard him, he didn’t respond. Peter eased forward and carefully moved the gun away, but for all his caution Wade didn’t seem to notice him moving. What was going on? Peter reached out and placed his fingers on Wade’s neck, feeling for his pulse. His heart was racing.  _ Panic attack _ ? But from what? “Wade, let’s go sit on the couch, ok?” Peter stood and pulled him to his feet.

 

The movement seemed to jar Wade from whatever he was seeing, because he finally blinked and looked at Peter. Peter took the chance, “Wade, what’s going on?” He asked firmly.

 

“Loki… space… darkness.” Ok, that wasn’t much to go on.

 

“What about Loki, Wade?” He pushed.

 

“Helping. Found the bomb. Loki teleported us into space. So cold. Couldn’t breathe. Dark.” Wade curled into himself, shivering.

 

Peter pulled at him again, leading him to the couch. As soon as they were sitting, Wade pulled Peter practically into his lap. The shivering, now that Peter was pressed against Wade and could feel it, was more like tiny fast muscle spasms. Peter rubbed Wade’s arm and shoulder through his suit, as it was all he could reach in the bear hug Wade had him in, and spoke softly, meaningless words of encouragement.

 

Wade buried his face into the side of Peter’s neck, and seemed to be working on his breathing. Slowly the shivering subsided, and his breathing evened out. “Sorry,” he mumbled into Peter’s neck, but didn’t try to move away. They stayed like that for several more long minutes before he finally released Peter from his death grip.

 

Peter didn’t move. “You ok?” He asked.

 

He could feel Wade smile. “Not really. Thank you for coming.”

 

“Of course,” Peter replied immediately. 

 

They sat in silence for a bit until Wade spoke again, “I’m good though. I’m sure you have a lot of places you need to be.” Peter glanced back to see a strange expression that he couldn’t place.

 

“I’m good as long as you’re fine with me doing a mountain of homework on your table.”

 

Wade’s smile looked more genuine. “So long as I don’t have to help.”

 

“Deal,” Peter agreed, returning the smile.

 

“I’m going to go change,” Wade said, grabbing his mask and heading for the bedroom.

 

Peter dropped his bag at the table and pulled out a book to get started.

 

Wade came out several minutes later in a t-shirt and cotton pants. He looked better but still really pale. His eyes were drawn to the gun still on the floor by the corner. “Fuck, I didn’t attack you, did I?” He asked, looking even more distressed.

 

“No, you’re ok. I just moved it.”

 

Wade nodded and took the gun off the floor and back into his bedroom. When he returned he covered the space between them and leaned down, wrapping his arms around Peter’s chest, hugging him. “Thank you. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

 

Peter covered Wade’s arms with his own. “It’s ok. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "69 Tea" and "Fur Cue" take place between this chapter and chapter three!
> 
> FBiNS is finally moving forward in it's plot. Oh thank god.
> 
> I've also already started some vague work on the next FrostIron chapter. 
> 
> Having a job is _really_ cutting into my writing time. :'(


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, this is gonna be 4 chapters. Because chapter 3 was just waaay too long.
> 
> It's still really long.
> 
> Chapter 4 is also really long. *sob*

_ With every new regret I start to wear down _

_ Then pray for the pain to go away _

_ I need an amulet, I need a new sound _

_ I know everything remains the same _

\--Seether,  _Same Damn Life_

  


June 

 

**Wade**

 

Seeing a bunch of Spidey-web on his wall was hardly the strangest thing Wade had ever woken up to. However, the following message that _Ellie was with Peter_ sent a spike of anxiety through him. “What the _fuck_?” He was up and moving immediately.

 

 _Shame,_ Yellow said gleefully, _I guess we’re gotta kill him_.

 

Deadpool didn’t respond, he heard movement outside of his room, and found himself stalking through the apartment, barely taking in his surroundings. His fingers were around Peter’s throat and he pinned him against the fridge. He could hear Peter choking. He looked scared. _Good_.

 

 _Deadpool!_ White was screaming at him. _Ellie’s fine! You don’t need to kill him!_

 

“What the _shit_ , Parker?” Deadpool--Wade?--Deadpool asked.

 

Peter pried his fingers from around his throat. “Sorry,” he coughed out.

 

“You can’t just take off with people’s _kids_ , Pete. You--” He stopped, his brain finally catching up with the rest of him. He glanced around, taking everything in. “Did you cook?”

 

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I told you I was making lunch.”

 

Wade blinked. Had Peter told him? He pulled his hand out of Peter’s grip and dug his phone out of his pocket.

 

>> Ellie is with me. We went to get food. Be Back Soon.

>> We’re back. Making lunch. Come eat.

 

 _Oh_. “I didn’t read your second text,” he admitted. He hadn’t even finished the first one.

 

“What?” Peter asked, sounds incredulous.

 

“I kind of got to, “Ellie is with me” and went from there.”

 

But Ellie was fine. More than fine. She was happy and enthusiastic about everything. And judging by her insistence on wanting to sit between them as they ate, she was becoming fast friends with Peter.

 

Speaking of, he knew Peter could cook, but holy shit. This food easily rivaled that of the little nameless taco joint they usually frequented.

 

Warmth flooded his chest as he watched Peter and Ellie draw and color together. Peter kept up with his daughter in a way that even Wade struggled to at times. _Is this what family feels like?_ He wondered.

 

 _Ew_. Yellow said.

 

And then Peter ruined everything. Well, not _ruined_ . And not _everything_ . But. Peter _liked_ him. Him. Wade. Deadpool. Peter was attracted to him. _How?_

 

A not insignificant part of Wade’s mind wanted to cross the space between them and--

 

 _No_. White hissed.

 

Wade listened. Peter was 17. And _good_ . A fucking beacon of light in this mess of a world. This was something that could _never_ happen. So he followed White’s instructions. White was right, after all. He was _bad_ and _dangerous_ and _filth_. Peter deserved someone else. Someone better. Someone capable of being even a fraction as good as Peter was.

 

Something vile twisted in his chest as Peter left, obviously upset.

 

 _Better now than because you hurt him_ , White said quietly.

 

Yellow was surprisingly quiet. Maybe it’d been stunned into silence?

 

“I did the right thing?” Wade asked. It felt awful. That probably meant it was the right thing to do.

 

 _You did_ , White confirmed.

  


**Peter**

 

Peter was curled up in bed feeling completely drained. How was it possible for someone’s mind to feel both completely foggy and also overwhelmed with thoughts at the same time? He’d been contemplating what Wade had said: to find someone _else_ . Preferably someone in his own age group. _Ugh_ . He’d liked Liz, he thought. She had been smart and funny. So her dad had tried to kill him. That wasn’t something he could hold against her. What other peers did he even _like_ ? MJ was a good friend, but neither of them wanting anything more than that. Ned? He’d known Ned forever. He loved Ned. But not like… Well, he didn’t _love_ Wade. But he was attracted to him.

 

If he were being honest with himself, something that Peter generally tried to do, he didn’t tend to get along well with his peers. He’d always spent more time around adults than kids his own age. And now, with the whole Spider-Man thing, he found it harder than ever to relate to others. It wasn’t like he didn’t think school and such were important, but it was hard for them to carry the same weight after the things he’d seen.

 

His inability to focus wasn’t helped at all by the shocking lack of homework he had. There were only a couple of weeks left in class, so maybe it wasn’t _that_ shocking, but it was a frustrating change to his routine. He’d finished his homework well before dinner. He should go patrol, maybe. He knew that. It had been days since he’d been out. Eight days, since he’d told Wade how he felt and had gotten totally rejected. Did he really think looking up the age of consent would help? He shook his head against that unwanted train of thought. Of course Wade wouldn’t be interested in a kid. Still. After everything, all the time they’d spent together, and the things they’d seen, he thought that maybe there had been a chance. He knew he couldn’t keep avoiding patrolling on the off chance he’d run into Wade somewhere.

 

His phone buzzed from the nightstand and made him jump. He glared at it, but didn’t move to check it. Ned had been wanting to hang out. He could tell that something was obviously off, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to talk about it. _“Sorry I’ve been weird. I was crushing on this older man and he turned me down.”_ He wasn’t ready to deal with that conversation. His phone buzzed again. He reached over and grabbed the phone, intending to mute it, but then he saw Wade’s name on the notifications.

 

>> Hey, we still on for Taco Tuesday tomorrow?

 

Then,

 

>> We don’t have to if you’re busy.

 

Peter briefly considered throwing his phone. Instead he just flopped back down and whined into his pillow. What was he supposed to do with this?

 

>Sorry, didn’t hear my phone. Yeah, I’ll see you then?

 

>> Sounds good. ;)

 

Huh. His heart was pounding. At least he hadn’t totally screwed up whatever weird friendship he and Wade had. That was good.

 

School the next day seemed to take forever. Finishing his tiny bit of homework and just _waiting_ until it was time to meet at Wade’s was even worse. He ended up leaving early and taking the long way to Wade’s apartment, just to be out and about. At about five minutes later than normal--he wasn’t timing it, and definitely wasn’t showing up later on purpose to seem like he wasn’t anxious--he let himself into Wade’s apartment.

 

Wade was on the couch and the smell of his favorite tacos filled the air. “Hey, took you long enough,” Wade called by way of greeting. “Your food is getting cold.”

 

Peter hopped over the back of the couch and sat down. “School was murder today. I had so much homework.” Ah, yes. Lying. That was always good.

 

“Aren’t you close to graduating? I thought they’d be giving you less homework.”

 

Peter shrugged. He’d had almost no homework in a week, but he couldn’t admit that now.

 

“I mean, I never finished school, but I just assumed,” Wade said with a laugh.

 

Peter blinked at the news. “You didn’t finish school?”

 

“Nope. Enlisted at 16.” Wade took a big bite of his food. Peter was aware that he was watching him closely. Was he expecting Peter to judge him?

 

Instead he smirked, “Isn’t that illegal?”

 

Wade relaxed a fraction, laughing. “What can you do? School just wasn’t my thing. By 19 I was out of special forces and working with the CIA--” Wade stopped talking abruptly and went back to eating. The silence in the room felt tense. Finally Wade spoke again, “So, what are you doing after school?”

 

That was the last thing Peter had any interest in talking about. He wished he’d just kept his damn mouth shut. _Why did I have to say anything? Things were so much better._ He let out a breath and shrugged. “Not sure yet. Probably something with Mr. Stark?”

 

Wade nodded and the conversation lapsed again. Peter’s mind was a whirlwind. Each passing moment felt more and more miserable.

 

“Want to play a game?” Wade asked, finally breaking the silence.

 

“I… yeah, ok. Sounds good,” Peter replied.

 

As familiar sound of the Switch booting up filled his ears, Peter made up his mind.

 

“Wade?” His voice sounded completely unstable. _Great_. Wade turned to look at him. Whatever Peter had been planning to say definitely wasn’t what came out. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for saying anything the other day. I value our friendship a lot and I feel like I fucked it up. I don’t mean to feel this way, and I don’t want you to feel upset for uncomfortable. I just really don’t want things to change with us because it’s been so perfect and now everything just feels tense and wrong and it’s all my fault and I’m sorry.” He finally stopped to take a breath.

 

Wade had waited patiently for him to stop before sitting down and just _looking_ at him for several incredibly long seconds. “Come here,” he said quietly, holding his arms out. Peter darted across the couch and was buried in Wade’s side in record time. The relief brought tears to Peter’s eyes that fell before he even had a chance to realize it was happening. Wade just rubbed his back and didn’t speak until Peter’s rough breathing subsided. “Peter, listen ok? Just listen.” Peter nodded.

 

“First off, never apologize for how you feel, period. Ok?” Peter nodded again. “Second, you didn’t fucked anything up. We’re good. I won’t lie and say you didn’t surprise the fuck out of me.” Peter scoffed. It was much easier to be snarky from his current position. Wade continued like he hadn’t been interrupted. “And I think you missed it through all the feelings you were having the other day, so I’m going to say this again: I like you, Peter. As in, I _really_ like you.”

 

Peter’s heart must have skipped three beats in that moment. Had Wade said that? He tried to think back to their conversation. Sure enough. Somehow that was even more frustrating. “But I’m just a kid,” he grumbled bitterly.

 

“Ok, you aren’t hearing me like this. Up.” Wade pulled him so they were sitting side by side and could meet each other’s eyes. “I need you to listen, ok? Just listen and don’t argue until I’m done.” Peter glared, but remained quiet. Wade took a slow deep breath and ran a hand across his scared head. In the back of his mind, Peter wondered if that habit was from a time when he had hair to run his hands through.

 

“Peter. Yes, ok, the age thing is part of it, like I said before.” Peter opened his mouth and Wade made a noise of disapproval so Peter closed it again. “But it’s a lot more than that. A _lot_. Peter, I’m not a good person. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m not. By your age I was already killing and torturing and--look, I’m not good. Not good for anyone. Period.

 

I mean, seriously. In the, what, 6 or 7 months we’ve been hanging out, you’ve already seen me freak out three times. One of those times I fucked choked you out--”

 

“I was fine! You can’t hurt me,” Peter cut in.

 

“I almost _shot you_.” Wade’s voice rose, talking over him.

 

“But you didn’t!”

 

“I almost did, Peter. That’s what you don’t get! I had to argue with myself, _force_ myself not to! You’re not safe around me. _No one_ is safe around me.” Wade paused to take a steadying breath. When he finally spoke again, his voice was back to its normal volume. “I am fucking grade-A crazy, Pete. And you don’t deserve to be saddled with that shit. No one does.”

 

It was several long moments before Peter spoke again. “I knew all that before,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t change how I feel. And you said yourself, you like me too. You also told me not to apologize for how I feel. I like you, Wade, more than anyone I’ve ever met before. I did think about it, what you said, finding someone my own age and all that crap. But I don’t feel the same about any of them. I know you probably think I’m just being naive but what I feel with you is _different_. I want to at least give this a try.”

 

Wade was quiet for a long time. Long enough Peter was confident he just wasn’t going to answer. After what felt like an eternity and a half, Peter was nearly ready to get up and leave when Wade spoke again, quiet and haltingly. “We aren’t doing anything until you’re 18. Until then… things can just go back to how they were, ok? Once you’ve had time to think… anyway. You ready to play?”

 

Peter debated for less than a second before pressing his luck, “Can I get a hug first?” Wade smirked and opened his arms to let Peter hug him. Peter sat up, smiling. It wasn’t that long until he was 18. He could make Wade understand by then.

 

The rest of the night went without issue. The tensity from earlier had vanished. Wade gave him a long hug before he left.

  


Peter was on his way to fourth period when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see he had a text from Wade.

 

>> You busy tomorrow?

 

The correct answer was a resounding _“yes, he was super busy.”_ He had two final projects that he needed to be working on. Instead he shot back,

 

> Not really, why?

 

His Trig teacher stopped him to ask about his aunt and by the time he could get away his pocket had vibrated three times.

 

>> Ellie wants to see the new Toy Story movie and asked if you wanted to come.

 

>> She apparently thinks you’d like it?

 

>> You totally don’t have to though.

 

Peter smiled at this phone.

 

> What, and miss the chance to hang out with my favorite 7-year-old? I’d love to come. What time?

 

>> Movie at 1. Feel free to come by before.

 

The next day Peter got up early and worked on his projects as much as he could before heading to Wade’s apartment at noon.

 

“Peter!” Ellie squealed, running up to hug him.

 

“Hey!” Peter replied, kneeling down to hug her before easily lifting her to spin around.

 

She hugged his shoulders, laughing. “ _Otra vez, otra vez!”_ Peter spun them around several more times before setting her down.

 

Peter looked up to see Wade watching him closely from the kitchen, a warm smile on his face. He only blushed a little under the scrutiny.

 

“Hey.” Wade said, walking over and folding Peter into a hug. Peter rested his head on Wade’s chest taking a slow deep breath, enjoying his smell.

 

“Peter, come color with me!”

 

“You need to eat, Sweet Pea, and then we need to leave,” Wade told her.

 

She sighed heavily, “Yes _Papi_ ,” and walked over to the table and flopped into a chair, only to immediately perk up as food was placed in front of her.

 

As soon as Wade was sitting down, Ellie began to catch up up on the previous Toy Story movies. Wade’s attention never wavered as they talked. Peter watched how his eyes lit up, despite the fact that they’d watched the films a few weeks prior. (Wade had been aghast that Peter had never gotten around to watching them.) They were painfully adorable together.

 

Once she had finished eating, Wade slipped into the bedroom and grabbed his hoodie and they headed out. As soon as they were outside Ellie reached up and grabbed Wade’s hand. Once he took it she stretched out her other hand uncertainly towards Peter. He took it and she grinned then turned and picked up where she had left off telling Wade about the movies. As they walked Peter saw a few people stop and stare at the three of them as they walked. It made his Senses tingle uncomfortably. As completely relaxed as Wade looked, Peter knew he must notice all the attention.

 

By the time they arrived at the theater, Ellie had managed to completely recap all the previous Toy Story movies and had moved on to talking about school. Wade kept up his part of the conversation well enough that it was obvious he was hearing everything she said, even as she moved in and out of Spanish and English.

 

As they moved up to the ticket booth she pulled on Peter’s hand, _“Recógeme.”_

 

Peter smiled and easily lifted her again.

 

“She likes to tell them the movie,” Wade supplied.

 

Peter moved her so she could speak into the mic, “Three for Toy Story, please!” She said excitedly.

 

Wade paid and she grabbed the tickets from the slot before hugging Peter again.

 

They bought drinks and popcorn and found seats, Ellie happily sitting between them. She continued talking about school, a few of her friends, and a slumber party she had been to recently. She occasionally asked Peter a question, but for the most part seemed content to fill Wade in on her last few weeks and was overjoyed at having his full attention, so Peter didn’t even want to interject much. When the movie started she quieted and within minutes seemed completely sucked into the action on the screen.

 

Wade’s hand on Peter’s shoulder surprised him. He glanced over but Wade was looking up at the screen. Peter settled back into his seat, enjoying the quiet warmth of Wade’s hand. Occasionally Wade would rub at the material of Peter’s shirt or make slow movements with his fingers, but for the most part he was still. Peter found focusing on the movie hard. It seemed to end entirely too quickly.

 

Back at the apartment Ellie kept Peter and Wade busy coloring and talking about the movie until there was a knock on the door. “Go get your stuff, Pumpkin,” Wade said, getting to his feet and letting Emily in. She smiled at wade. “She loved the movie.” Peter could hear the apprehension in Wade’s tone.

 

Emily laughed. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll hear all about it. Peter!” She turned her smile to him. “I’m glad you were able to come. Ellie talked all week about asking Wade to invite you.” Then, in a stage whisper, “I hope she didn’t talk your ear off.”

 

Peter grinned. “No, it was a lot of fun. She’s a really sweet kid.”

 

Ellie bolted over with her bag in hand, and ran up to Wade. He scooped her up and held her as she hugged him. _“¡Te amo, Papi! ¡Te extrañaré mucho!”_ She exclaimed.

 

_“¡Yo también te quiero! Hasta pronto, mi hermosa hija!”_

 

She smiled then ran to Peter who gave her a hug as well.

 

“Thank you for coming with us, Peter!” She said, then leaned close so she could whisper in his ear, “You make _Papi_ very happy.”

 

Peter was more than a little shocked at that but recovered quickly as everyone was watching him. “Thank you for the invite. It was fun to hang out.” She hugged him tight around the neck then grabbed her bag and ran to Emily.

 

Once the door was shut Wade flopped on the couch with a sigh.

 

“You ok?” Peter asked.

 

Wade nodded. “It’s just… so quiet when she’s gone.” Wade’s voice was uncharacteristically muted.

 

Peter walked over and sat on the couch too. “You have an awesome kid,” he said, unsure exactly how to respond.

 

Wade smiled easily, “Yeah, she is. How’d something so perfect come from someone as fucked up as me?” Then, before Peter could do more than open his mouth to reply, “Yeah, yeah, I’m not fucked up. Save it.” At least his voice was back to normal. Wade shifted unt his head was laying on Peter’s lap.

 

“When do you have her again?” Hesitantly, Peter let his hand begin to run over Wade’s head. If Wade cared he didn’t comment.

 

“Depends on work, really.” He said, rolling onto his back. “She really likes you, though. Literally I think that was the first thing she asked when she came over.”

 

Peter smiled. He carefully ran his hand over Wade’s cheek. When Wade closed his eyes, he took that as permission to continue. As Wade laid still Peter ran his fingers gently over his face. After a few minutes Wade let out a long slow breath.

 

Peter’s phone beeped at him to head home. Wade rolled up to a sit easily and pulled Peter in for a hug. “Thank you again for coming today.”

 

“Any time,” Peter replied before heading out.

  


July 

 

**Wade**

 

Wade was just minding his own fucking business, having a drink at Sister Margaret’s, chatting with Weasel and Dopinder. A nice time was being had by all, damn it.

 

Until Tony motherfucking Stark waltzed in, sitting next to Wade at the bar. “Can I get a--”

 

“Water.” Wade interrupted before he had a chance to order.

 

“Excuse me?” Tony turned to glare at him.

 

“I don’t make the rules. I just enforce them.”

 

 _We don’t want a fight_ , White warned him.

 

 _No,_ you _don’t want a fight. We do!_ Yellow corrected.

 

“Um?” Weasel asked, obviously picking up on the tension.

 

Meanwhile, Dopinder, bless him, easily slid a glass of water across the bar until it was in front of Tony.

 

“What makes you think you get to police my behavior?” Tony hissed.

 

Wade narrowed his eyes, “You scare the shit out of Peter, and I become inclined to take an interest.”

 

Tony took the glass of water, “Yeah, about Peter. We need to have a chat about that.”

 

Wade let out a dark laugh. Stark wanted a fight, too. “We sure don’t.”

 

“I’m not leaving until we talk,” Tony said firmly. “I’m not afraid to make a scene.”

 

Wade considered letting it happen. They were already drawing the attention of the handful of mercs that were sitting nearby. But Tony getting hurt would upset Peter, so he wanted to keep this idiot as uninjured as he could manage. For Peter.

 

“Should I throw him out, Mr. Pool?” Dopinder asked, sounding more than a little excited by the prospect.

 

“Nah,” he stood up, shooting finger guns at him, “but thanks, Papa Bear!” He turned back towards Tony, his voice as low and threatening as he could manage, “Fine. You want to talk? Let’s talk.” With a firm hand on his shoulder Wade pushed him off the bar stool, and directing him to the back corner of the bar, into the tiny booth.

 

“You don’t want to go somewhere else?” Tony asked, glancing around.

 

Wade crossed his arms. “Nope,” he let the p pop at the end of the word.

 

For all his bravado, Tony looked uncomfortable. _Good_. “Have it your way.”

 

“What do you want, Tony? I’m not joining your little superhero team.”

 

He actually looked offended at the idea. _Asshole_. “We don’t want you.”

 

“Then?”

 

“You need to stay away from Peter.”

 

Wade nearly laughed. Like that was going to happen. “Are you serious?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Wade leaned across the booth. “Try again.”

 

Tony didn’t flinch away, but Wade knew it was a near thing. “What?”

 

“If Peter wants me around, I’m around. I’m not leaving unless he asks me to.”

 

Tony was glaring. That was fine. “You’re being selfish. If you cared about him, you’d stay away.”

 

 _Tell me something I don’t know_. “Maybe,” he acknowledged. “But like I said, Petey doesn’t want me to stay away.”

 

Tony’s voice was louder than he had probably intended, “He’s a _child_! He doesn’t know what’s good for him!”

 

Now they _really_ had the attention of those around them. “You’re attracting attention you don’t want,” he warned.

 

“Are you threatening me?” He asked, his voice much quieter.

 

“You’d _know_ if I was threatening you.” Wade cupped his head in his hand. “Look, I don’t know what brought this on, but you need to back off.”

 

“Peter likes you, and--”

 

“I’m aware.” Wade was actually rather proud of himself for not jumping across the table and hitting Tony as hard as he could.

 

“... You are?” Tony asked, sounding stunned.

 

“Yeah. And I’m real fucking glad he got the chance to tell me himself before you went and outed him.” Wade was determining non-lethal places he could shoot him. “Even if he hadn’t told me, I’m not oblivious. And he’s hardly subtle.” He really didn’t want to lose his temper. Yellow wasn’t helping matters. “I think you’re the one who needs to take a step back and _really_ think about this situation.”

 

Tony looked furious. “Excuse me? The situation is--”

 

“The situation is that you just outed a teenager to a known killer. I _literally_ make my living by manipulating and hurting people. Now just imagine for a moment that I’m even half as immoral as you seem to think I am. What’s my next move gonna be?”

 

The other man went still, his eyes widening as the reality of his words crashed over him.

 

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Wade leaned back across the booth, speaking quietly. “Look, you have Pete’s best interests at heart. I can respect that. But you coming here? Saying shit like that? You just put him in far more danger than I ever would.” He stood up. “He’s a smart guy. He knows who and what I am. And you? If you ever abuse his trust like this again, you might just get to find out too.”

 

Wade loved the pained expression on Tony’s face. “In case you didn’t catch it, _that_ was a threat.”

  


**Peter**

 

Peter strode with false confidence into the Avengers Tower penthouse. His lack of confidence in the situation wasn’t helped by Loki’s expression of mild surprise at his appearance. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Loki?”

 

His look of confusion deepened. “No? Not that I mind your company, but…”

 

It was Peter’s turn to feel confused. He pulled his phone out and showed Loki the screen. “I got a text from you,” he explained.

 

Loki gently took the phone, blinking down at screen. Suddenly he looked more irritated than anything else. “What the hell, Stark?”

 

Peter bristled. “Wha… he impersonated you to get me over here?”

 

“It appears so.” Loki handed the phone back over.

 

Anger and fear clashed in Peter’s mind. What was Tony thinking? Why would he do this? It had to have been for a good reason, right?

 

“ _Why_?” He asked. “Does he think there’s something we need to talk about? Are you mad at me?”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow at his questions. “Why would I be mad at you?”

 

“I don’t know!” Peter was turning the phone in his hand, trying to push down his need to _move_.

 

“I’m not mad at you, Peter,” Loki said softly. He was quiet for a moment, probably thinking about the situation. “This morning he said something about talking to Deadpool?”

 

Peter nearly dropped his phone. “Oh, hell.” Apparently that wasn’t the reaction Loki had been expecting. “Ok, um…” he ran a hand over his face. Tony had said that Loki would probably approve. Maybe he would? He hoped he would. “The other day, I told Mr. Stark that I’m bi.” He paused, trying to judge Loki’s reaction. Loki, sensing that he wasn’t finished, just waited patiently. “And I that I like Wade.”

 

“And?” Loki looked confused again.

 

“And...I don’t think he liked that very much.”

 

“What, was he surprised?”

 

Peter blinked. “Huh?”

 

Loki looked amused, but not in an unkind way. “Peter, your attraction to Deadpool was obvious.” Peter could feel his ears going red at that. “It’s not a bad thing. It looks to me like you two make each other happy.”

 

Peter started to smile as he got a text from Wade.

 

>> Where are you?

 

> @Avengers Tower w/ Loki. You ok?

 

>> I’m fine. Coming to you.

 

Peter frowned. “I think you were right. Wade’s coming over.”

 

Loki nodded. “Are you alright?”

 

“Honestly? No. I’m pissed off. I’m not a child. I mean, I get it. He’s got a reputation. But he doesn’t know Wade! He just seems small slices of his behavior and thinks that’s all he is! And fucking...going behind my back? What the hell?!”

 

Loki looked entertained by his outburst.

 

“And where does he even get off being judgemental? No offense, but he’s dating _you_!”

 

Given that Loki was actually laughing now, Peter was confident he hadn’t offended him.

 

“I’ll talk to him,” Loki promised after Peter stopped to catch his breath.

 

After a few minutes where Peter tried really hard not to stew on his emotions, JARVIS spoke, “Mr. Wilson has arrived. Shall I let him up?”

 

“Where’s Stark?”

 

“Down in his lab, Sir.”

 

Loki nodded. “Yeah, let him up.”

 

Wade looked furious as he stalked out of the elevator. “That stupid son of a bitch!”

 

“Are you ok?” Peter asked, barely ignoring the urge to run across the room.

 

“I’m fine!” Wade flinched at his own raised voice. “He’s not going to be.”

 

“What happened?” Loki asked.

 

Wade took a deep breath before launching into a quick overview of his encounter with Tony.

 

“Best interests my ass. He just thinks he knows what’s best for everyone else.”

 

“I can’t argue that he’s not being a hypocrite, but… I can understand his concern.” Peter and Wade both fixed Loki was a disbelieving look. He just shrugged. “He always defends me. I figure I should return the favor from time to time.”

 

Peter crossed his arms. “Wade would never hurt me,” he insisted.

 

“No, I don’t believe he would.” Loki’s eyes shifted to Wade. “If you did, I’d have to kill you, you know.”

 

Wade barked out a laugh before looking more serious, “If I ever hurt him, I’ll you try.”

 

The elevator door opened with a soft ding, and Tony took a hesitant step into the room, looking over the small gathering. “What?”

 

Loki reclined easily in his chair, looking content to just enjoy the proceedings. “Do you just thrive on upsetting your friends?”

 

Peter had been planning on very calmly discussing with Tony why him overstepping his bounds like that had been decidedly _not ok_. But then Tony just sort of shrugged, “No?”

 

“Mr.-- Tony! Stay the hell out of my business!” So much for a calm discussion. Without taking the time to actually think, Peter had webbed Tony to the wall. “You aren’t keeping me safe. You’re just trying to control me. And I’m _sick of it_ . I know you think of me as just a kid, but I know what I’m doing! Wade would _never_ hurt me.” He took a steadying breath, but continued before he could start to regret his actions, “Next time you’re worried about me, or what I’m doing, just come talk to me about it like I’m an adult. And if you can’t do that...then just fuck off.”

 

He ignored Tony’s stunned expression as he stalked past him and into the elevator. Wade followed after him, a huge grin on his face the entire ride down.

 

 

* * *

 

It was several days before Peter could get himself to talk to Tony again. And then he only agreed to come over to celebrate him graduating from high school once he’d gotten a long proper apology out of him. And the promise that he would quit being weird about Wade. “If he does anything that you think is a _real_ cause for concern, talk to me about it. Don’t just take it into your own hands.” Tony agreeing to his terms did a lot to bridge the tension.

 

Which was all well and good until Peter admitted that he hadn’t actually taken the time to apply to any colleges. It wasn’t like he wasn’t planning to go eventually. But after the last few years, he needed a break.

 

“I watched you study for the SAT?” Wade asked, looking more confused than anything else.

 

Peter shrugged. “Yeah.”

 

“You did take it, didn’t you?” Tony looked more than a little concerned.

 

Peter frowned, crossing his arms. “Of course I took it.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about them _agreeing_.

 

“How’d you do?” Tony prompted.

 

Peter didn’t meet their eyes. “I did fine. They made me take it twice, though.”

 

“What?” Tony asked after a moment.

 

“I got a 1600 and they just assumed I cheated.”

 

Tony let out a choked off noise. “You scored a 1600 and didn’t bother to apply anywhere?” Peter didn’t look up to confirm the expression he knew he’d see on Tony’s face.

 

“Is a 1600 that good?” He heard Wade asking. Peter hated how easily be blushed.

 

“It’s a perfect score! I didn’t even get a perfect score. Peter, do you have any idea how incredible that is?”

 

“Yeah, I mean. It’s come to my attention a few times.”

 

“You can’t _not_ go to college.”

 

Peter bristled. So much for talking about things like adults, apparently. “Who said anything about not going?” He bit out. “I said I’m not going this year. I’m still gonna go.”

 

He glared at Tony, who was holding his head in his hands. “May’s gonna kill me.”

 

“Why would she kill you?” Loki asked, having been paying more attention that Peter had guessed.

 

“She’s gonna think this is my fault.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes, “Mr. Stark…”

 

“It is, isn’t it? You’re the one who dragged him into all this Avengers stuff.” Loki was smirking at him.

 

Peter shook his head. “May doesn’t know I’m Spider-Man. And she doesn’t blame you, Mr. Stark. Geeze. I’ve already talked to her about this.”

 

Tony blinked up at him. “You have?”

 

Peter huffed. “Yeah. Unlike you, she thought to ask me about my plans _before_ I graduated.” He joined in Wade’s laughter at Tony’s abashed expression.

  


**Wade**

 

As they walked back to Peter and May’s apartment, Wade shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, Peter,” he finally managed.

 

Peter glanced over at him. “Hrm? For what?”

 

He shoved his hands into his hoodie. “I never took the time to ask you what your plans were.”

 

“Oh,” Peter shrugged. “It’s not like I ever brought it up, either.”

 

Well, the least he could do was ask now. “So, what are your plans for your year off?”

 

“I’ll get a job. MJ has some connections and thinks I can do some freelance photography.” Peter kept glancing up at him as they walked. “But also, I was kind of wondering…”

 

“Wondering what?”

 

“D”you ever go on any...not-killy jobs?”

 

 _Well, well. Look at you. Being a terrible influence._ White said.

 

Wade stopped dead. “No.”

 

Peter took a few more steps before realizing that Wade had frozen. He turned and looked back at him, head cocked. “No you don’t, or…?”

 

“No--I mean, yes. I do jobs that don’t involve killing people. No, you can’t do that, too.”

 

Peter actually frowned at him. He was being a perfectly reasonable adult, and Peter looked annoyed at it. “Why not?”

 

Wade shook his head. “For _so_ many reasons. Holy shit, Parker.”

 

The younger man crossed his arms, his eyes defiant. “Yeah? Like what?”

 

He could do the defiant thing, too. “We’re not talking about this out on the street.”

 

Peter’s expression softened. “But we _are_ going to talk about it?” He asked.

 

Wade groaned. “Fucking… Yes. Fine. We can talk about it.”

 

After getting to the apartment Peter ushered Wade into his room, shutting the door behind them.

 

Wade liked Peter’s bedroom. It reflected Peter well. At first glance it came off as chaotic, but when he took a moment to look, it was actually very well organized… there was just a _lot_. One of the walls was filled with photographs. People that Wade assumed were Peter’s friends. The Avengers. A couple with a young boy--Peter and his parents? A kind looking man whose identity Wade couldn’t guess at. There were no pictures of him. Of course not. Why would there be? Wade had a grand total of one photograph of himself, and he never looked at it. He also hadn’t been able to get himself to throw it away.

 

“Admiring the pics?” Peter asked.

 

“Oh! Yeah, sorry.”

 

Peter was smiling. “Don’t be sorry. That’s what they’re there for: to be looked at.” Wade wanted very much to ask who some of the people were. He wanted to share some of the non-superhero aspects of Peter’s life. Peter flopped into his desk chair and gave Wade an appraising look. “So. We were gonna talk?”

 

Wade admired the fact that once Peter had set his mind to something, he was hard to dissuade. Right into it, he supposed. “You’re one of the least intimidating people I’ve ever met.”

 

Peter frowned. “I can be plenty intimidating.”

 

“It’s also incredibly dangerous,” Wade pointed out.

 

Peter crossed his arms. “I do all sorts of dangerous stuff as Spider-Man.”

 

He continued without hesitation, “You also have a general distaste for hurting people. If you can find a way around it, you take it.”

 

Peter opened his mouth to argue, but seemed to think better of whatever he had planned to say. His frown deepened. “You always wind up hurting people?”

 

Wade faltered. Of course he did. People didn’t hire mercenaries to do _legal_ shit. “Pain’s a very powerful motivator,” he said. Peter’s gaze lowered, staring just to the right of where Wade was standing. “Peter, what do you think I do for a living?” He asked quietly.

 

“I’m not _that_ naive, Wade. I know you hurt people. And kill them.”

 

“But?”

 

Peter shook his head. “But nothing. I get it. I… I had mostly just been thinking aloud. But when you were so adamant that I couldn’t do it, I got kind of defensive.” Peter was fidgeting. He picked up a chess piece from his desk and started turning it over and over in his hands.

 

“I’m sorry--” Wade started.

 

“No you’re not.”

 

He gave him an annoyed look as he continued, “I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t recognize your abilities. You’re an incredibly capable person. I’m confident you could do just about anything you wanted to. I also know you’d hate the sort of things I get paid to do.”

 

Peter swallowed, still not properly looking at him. “Can I come with you sometime?”

 

“What? No. What did I just say?”

 

Peter had the audacity to glare at him. “I won’t get in your way.”

 

“That’s not the issue.” Peter’s expression told Wade he would really struggle to win this argument. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll think about it. Next time Weasel brings me something non-lethal, I’ll let you know.”

 

Peter looked mystified. Wade couldn’t figure out what part of his statement could have possibly been confusing. “Your handler’s name is Weasel?”

 

“He’s not my--” Wade paused, considering. “Huh. Never call him that to his face.”

 

Peter’s eyes went wide and he perked up. “I can meet him?”

 

For a moment Wade remembered the face of a girl who’d just been told she could adopt a kitten. It was gone before he could place any part of the memory.

 

“Jesus Christ. _Maybe_.”

 

 _Weren’t you just saying you wanted to share other parts of Peter’s life? Is it really so surprising that he wants to share some of yours, too?_ White asked him.

 

 _Considering_ this _is the part he’s suddenly interested in? Yeah, a bit._

 

Yellow scoffed, _What other parts of your life are there?_

  


August

 

**Peter**

 

Peter woke to the sound of his phone buzzing. He reached over with a groan and checked it. He had at least half a dozen birthday messages. Smiling sleepily he glanced over each, shotting quick replies back to each in turn. After the quick replies to paused to properly check the one from Wade.

 

>> Hey baby boy. I’m still out of town on a job. :( I was hoping to be back today but things have changed some, so I’m looking at another 2 days at least. What do you want for your present when I get back? ;)

 

Peter grinned and checked when the message had been received. About 45 minutes ago. Either Wade had been up really early, or really really late. It always worried him to text Wade on jobs, but Wade repeatedly promised him that it was ok. If he needed stealth, his phone was off. Making up his mind,

 

> IDK if I want to tell you. You might say no.

 

He took his time getting dressed. Several replies from Ned came as he got up and around, but it was a solid 30 minutes before Wade replied.

 

>> I promise to do my best to give my baby boy whatever he wants on his birthday. ;)

 

Peter bit his lip at the reply. It had taken time but he had gotten fairly used to Wade’s flirty texts. But apparently Wade had been keeping himself in check until Peter was actually 18. The way Wade talked to him via text never seemed to translate into being around him in person, but it still made Peter smile every time.

 

> I want to go on a date.

 

Wade’s next reply came quickly.

 

>> Ok. What do you want to do?

 

> Nope. You plan it. :)

 

>> You’re so mean to me. :(

 

Peter smirked.

 

> You’ll survive.

 

>> Fine.

 

Then,

 

>> Have a good day, sweet boy ;)

 

Peter came out of his room and was greeting by a warm hug from May.

  


**Wade**

 

Wade climbed the stairs to Peter’s apartment, definitely not stressed about any of this. He had promised Peter nothing serious until he had turned 18. He had never expected Peter to hang around that long. But he had, and now he had to figure out how things were going to work. What exactly was Peter expecting now?

 

Wade had made it a point to be out of town during his actual birthday, and to ask him what he wanted over text. The request of a date had been a surprise, but maybe it shouldn’t have been. Wade had always been careful not to get tied up into anything serious. When he got into serious relationships, people tended to die.

 

 _Peter won’t die so easily_ , he told himself.

 

It had been a lot easier to avoid dating now that he looked like a bad extra in a horror movie. Had he ever been on a date? He tried to remember, but as always, he hit static once he thought back far enough.

 

He knocked on the door and a woman’s voice called, “It’s open!”

 

It was weird having to pretend he hadn’t been there recently. It was always so bright in here, warm and inviting. As he entered the living room, May came out of the kitchen. “You must be Wade. It’s good to meet you.” He shook her hand and had to give her credit, she paused for less than a second to take in his scars. “So, where did you and Peter meet?”

 

“Through his internship with Tony,” Wade said easily. Not _exactly_ a lie.

 

Peter’s door opened. “Ready?”

 

Wade nodded. “Yup!”

 

 _Liar_ , Yellow hissed.

 

They headed for the door and outside. Wade hadn’t realized how oppressive being indoors had felt until he was back outside. He took a slow deep breath.

 

“Was was the job?” Peter asked as Wade set the direction and they began to walk.

 

“Shitty,” _But awesome_ , he didn’t add. Someone had been tipping off his marks. Third one in a row. “Got paid extra since things went sideways, so.” He shrugged. “How was your birthday?”

 

Thankfully that topic seemed to be enough to keep Peter talking. Doing this, so fast after getting back, was hard. He was definitely having a hard time following the flow of conversation through White and Yellow’s arguments. Somewhere nearby a car alarm went off and dogs barked. Peter wasn’t talking anymore. He was looking up at him. Had he asked something? _Shit_.

 

“I’m sorry baby boy. Did you ask me something?”

 

Peter looked concerned. “I asked if you were ok. You had a weird look.”

 

Yellow laughed. _Can you look any weirder than normal?_

 

“I’m sorry. Yes, I’m ok.”

 

Peter smiled, but the concern didn’t leave his eyes. “So, where are we going?”

 

Wade tried to force his mind to focus through the buzzing. “Depends. Do you feel like being busy, or just relaxing?”

 

“I’m happy with either.” Peter sounded like he genuinely meant it. “Tell me what you’re thinking, and I can pick better.”

 

Wade caved. He wasn’t up to teasing right then. “Coney Island, they have fireworks tonight.”

 

Peter beamed and threw himself against Wade in a hug. That he could handle. He wrapped his arms around Peter and relaxed.

 

“My, uh,” Peter said softly. “My senses can get kind of overwhelmed by loud noises. Can we watch from the beach?”

 

Wade nodded. Peter’s hair was so soft on his cheek. His skin was soft and smooth, too.

 

When Peter let go and they started walking again the buzzing in his head felt louder than ever. He made an effort to keep up with the conversation, he really did. He was confident he was at least getting most of it. Or maybe just some of it. It would be so much easier if every rustle of leaves wasn’t so fucking loud.

 

He blinked, focusing on where they were. It was getting louder. They were getting close and still had a solid hour before the fireworks. “Want to get something to eat?” He offered. Peter agreed “Lead the way,” he said, and Peter laughed, guiding him through the crowd. So many voices crowded into his mind. Someone was speaking Russian. The target was Russian, wasn’t he? His mind honed in but it was so far away and everything was so loud.

 

A hand on his arm brought him back to the present. He was with Peter...in an alley? Why were they there? What had he missed? Peter’s hand holding his arm helped keep him grounded in the moment, even if the sounds still felt magnified. Had Peter been talking before? Someone had been talking. A target?

 

“You obviously aren’t fine. What’s going on?”

 

 _Shit_. He took a slow breath, focusing again. “I’m sorry. I’m still a bit fuzzier than I realized from the last job, I guess.”

 

“Fuzzy?” Peter repeated. “What does that mean?” Why did he have to ask such hard questions.

 

“Loud?” Wade tried. “Everything is just...loud.” Thankfully Peter seemed to get it based on that vague shitty description. His hand dropped from Wade’s arm and focusing was much harder without that firm reminder of “now”. He reached out and grabbed Peter’s hand, putting it back on his arm. “Helps,” he said by way of explanation.

 

Peter moved and grabbed his hand, winding their fingers together. “Good?” He asked.

 

It was still loud, still hard to focus, but at least he was certain of where he was. Unfortunately that meant hearing Yellow and White better, but, “Good.” They moved back into the crowd and he focused on the feeling of Peter’s hand. It was so warm.

 

They stopped moving and he blinked. Peter was leaning close to him, “what do you want to eat?” Wade

 

Wade looked up and ordered off the brightly colored board. He released Peter’s hand and paid, but Peter’s hand was back in his immediately after. Peter grabbed the food and pulled Wade away from the crowds and towards the beach. Things were quieter there, and it was easier to think. Peter guided him him to an area away from the water and up in an alcove in the rocks. “Sit,” Peter spoke quietly, and Wade followed direction.

 

Peter sat down, leaning his back against Wade’s chest. He felt warm and soft. Wade wrapped around him and took a slow deep breath. It felt easier to breathe. Had it been hard before? His eyes closed, listening to the crash of the waves. Peter’s hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes. Peter was watching him closely.

 

“Better?” He asked.

 

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t realize how out of it I still was.”

 

Peter’s smile was warm. “It’s ok. I go through something similar when I get overwhelmed.” He watched Peter’s lips move. At least he could follow the conversation. “Eat.” Peter said, handing him the bag. “You ordered a lot. Hungry today?” Had he ordered a lot?

 

“Yeah. I think it’s been a few days since I last ate.”

 

“Days?” A frown tugged at the corner of Peter’s mouth.

 

“I think so.” He said before taking a massive bite of food. Peter shifted a bit to be out of the way, but they still sat tucked together. Food seemed to be helping. The people walking by seemed quieter, and even White and Yellow had stopped screaming. By the fourth burrito he unwrapped he realized the clawing pain in his stomach was fading too. Had he been hungry? Based on how fast he was eating he must have been. Be finished eating and pulled Peter tighter to him, resting his chin on Peter’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

 

“How long ago did you get back from that job?” Peter asked.

 

“What time is it?” He replied. “I showered and headed straight to your place.”

 

“Next time you have a job like this, let’s just watch a movie at your place,” Peter told him. He felt warmth whisper through his chest at “next time”.

 

“Sounds good.”

 

Peter settled against his chest and he absently ran his fingers up and down Peter’s arms. The sound of the waves washed over him, and the feeling of Peter safe in his arms helped him relax.

 

“Peter?”

 

His eyes flashed open to find the source of the voice. A guy and a girl around Peter’s age were walking by holding hands, and had stopped to stare at them. Eyes were on him, scrutinizing. He felt himself tense, but Peter was talking.

 

“Ned! MJ! What’s up?”

 

He wasn’t trying to pull away or hide Wade from them. As they came closer he checked for escape routes. Tucked into the rocks as they were, through was the only option. He had a knife on him, but that was it. He could still probably--

 

“Wade. We’ve been together for a few weeks.”

 

He snapped back to the conversation as the two pinned him under their gaze.

 

“Nice to meet you!” The boy said. Ned? He nodded.

 

The girl, MJ?, nodded. “Hey,” then turned towards Peter. “I didn't know you were dating.”

 

Of course he hadn’t told his friends. Why would he tell them about the cluterfuck that was Wade?

 

“We are kind of keeping it quiet for now,” Peter shrugged. “People can be kind of judgemental.”

 

“Does he make you happy?” The girl asked.

 

He could hear the smile in Peter’s voice when he replied, “Very happy.” He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in.

 

“Then I don’t judge,” she said easily.

 

“Are you two…?” Peter asked.

 

“Yup!” The girl was grinning. “Come on, Ned. We should give them some space.” And with that they were gone.

 

He buried his face against Peter’s neck and took a few deep breaths. The noise settled back down. “I’m sorry. I’m fucking up your birthday and then I was weird to your friends.” He felt miserable. At least Yellow was thoroughly enjoying watching him fail.

 

“You’re not fucking anything up,” Peter turned sideways to face him. “I am having an amazing time just being here with you, and being close like this.” He couldn’t think hard enough to do anything but take Peter as his word.

 

Wade moved back to absently skimming his fingers over Peter’s arms. Peter smiled at him. “That feels nice.” He smiled, taking that as encouragement to continue. He leaned his head back on Peter’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure how long they sat together but he felt content.

 

The first pop of the fireworks made them both jump, but Peter pointing excitedly was enough to make him feel better. The fireworks were beautiful but Peter’s smile was much more interesting to watch. When the fireworks ended Peter curled into his chest and hugged him. “That was wonderful, Wade. Thank you.”

 

“Of course baby boy. Sorry I was weird.”

 

Peter shook his head, smiling. “It’s ok. Feeling better?”

 

Wade nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m back to normal.”

 

When they finally got up to head home Peter immediately grabbed his hand again. They spent the whole walk home hand in hand. Peter was back to talking and Wade was able to keep up this time.

  


**Peter**

 

Peter and Wade climbed back to May's apartment,  Peter's hand still entwined with Wade's. He didn't let go as he opened the door. As soon as the door opened, May called from the other room, “Peter? Can you come here?” Her voice sounded shaky. Despite silence from his Senses, Peter braced for a fight, pulling Wade after him into the living room.

 

“Peter,” Tony said from his seat on the couch. May sat across from him in her chair. It looked like she’d been crying. Wade’s hand slid out of his and Peter moved to May’s side alone.

 

“Is everything ok? What’s going on?”

 

“I’m fine,” she assured him, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Did you two have fun?”

 

“Two?” Tony spoke up. He turned in his seat and his expression darkened. “Wade.” Wade didn’t acknowledge him from his vantage point at the doorway. Tony stood. “I actually came to get you for a bit, Peter. Your gift is ready.”

 

 _Gift? What kind of gift needed to get ready?_ Peter glanced between May and Tony, and only spoke after she nodded. “Oh...um… yeah, ok?”

 

Tony began to walk out. He paused next to Wade and whispered something Peter couldn’t catch, but Wade’s face broke into a glare and Peter’s Senses took notice. Peter hopped over the couch and spoke quickly. “Wade’s coming with me.”

 

Tony turned and raised an eyebrow, “What if I say no?”

 

Peter shrugged, smiling. “Then I guess I’ll have to get my gift another day.”

 

Tony looked annoyed but finally walked past. “Come on, then.”

 

Happy was waiting in the car when they got back outside. Tony sat in the front, leaving Peter and Wade to sit in the back.

 

Wade’s eyes were unfocused again. Peter reached out and lightly ran his fingers up and down the back of Wade’s hand. After several long moments Wade rolled his hand so that Peter could thread their fingers together, Wade’s thumb returning the motions.

 

They seemed to be driving to the Avengers Tower. “So, what did you two do tonight?” Tony asked. It sounded like he was aiming for casual, but it didn’t quite work.

 

Unsure if Wade would answer, Peter replied, “We went on a date for my birthday.”

 

Tony made a noise of disapproval but made no further comment.

 

As The Tower got closer, Peter wondered what Tony could have wanted to give him that he’d needed to come pick him up for.

 

Happy pulled to a stop across the street from The Tower, and Tony got out. Peter hesitated before following. Wade was out before Peter was, standing at full height in front of Tony. Peter came around the car and grabbed Wade’s hand again. Wade’s expression dared Tony to speak. Tony ignored the bait and began walking into the building. A woman opened the door for them and they walked into a massive lobby. Several seating areas dotted the lobby as well as two massive fireplaces.

 

“Mr. Stark, what are we doing?” Peter asked as they stopped in front of several elevators. Tony didn’t answer, and instead just pressed the call button next to the elevator on the far right. Once inside, he put a key into a card slot in the elevator panel. The doors closed and the elevator rose.

 

When the doors opened they stepped out into a massive room. It was sparsely furnished and was mostly empty space. “This,” Tony said, his voice echoing slightly, “is your new apartment, Peter. Happy birthday, and congratulations for finishing high school.”

 

Peter was stunned into silence. Finally he managed to speak, “This...is mine?”

 

“Yep!” Replied Tony. “I had the windows replaced with 1-way glass like The Tower to make sure no one can see inside. Other than that, I just told them to put basic stuff in here. There’s a StarkPad on the counter, feel free to buy whatever you need to make it how you like it. And from here, you can just swing across to The Tower if you need anything.”

 

“Mr. Stark, this is...this is too much. Please, I can’t--”

 

Tony waved him off. “May already agreed, and it’s already paid for. If you really don’t want to use it, you don’t have to, but--” Peter cut him off with a tight hug.

 

“Ok, ok.” Tony patted him on the shoulder. “I’ve had a long day. Come over sometime tomorrow.” Tony said before pressing a pair of key cards into Peter’s hand, and returning to the elevator.

 

Peter took a moment to take everything in. All of the floors were solid wood. To the left the living room opened up into a kitchen of marble and stainless steel. Straight across the room from the elevator were floor to ceiling windows. The Tower took up the majority of the view, but the city lights were still clearly visible in the distance. Peter moved into one of the doors on the right and found a small room, unfurnished with a closet and it’s own bathroom. Another room off of the living room was a large bathroom. The final door on the right was presumably his own bedroom, judging by the bed that sat against the middle of one wall. He found a walk-in closet almost as large as his entire bedroom at home. The last door lead to another unreasonably large bathroom, with both a shower and a large tub.

 

“Holy crap,” he heard himself say as he wandered, slightly dazed, back into the living room. Wade was still standing unmoving from the few steps he’d taken to exit the elevator. His hands were in his hoodie and he looked tense. “Wade?” Peter asked, walking over to him. Wade looked up at him; his eyes were focusing, but he still looked off. “You ok?” Peter moved a bit to stand in front of Wade. His eyes were following him. That was good, not like earlier.

 

“I fucking hate him sometimes,” Wade admitted. “Even when he means well.”

 

Peter reached out, drawing one of Wade’s hands from his pocket. “Can we cuddle on the couch?”

 

That earned something that was almost a smile. “It’s your world today, baby boy, I’m just living in it.” Peter snorted but pulled Wade over to the couch. He passed over the television remote before hopping over to the kitchen for a couple of glasses of water. By the time he got back, Wade had already settled in on one end of the couch. Peter stretched out and laid against Wade’s side, but couldn’t really get comfortable. “This hoodie is really scratchy,” he complained, poking Wade’s side. “Take it off?”

 

Wade made a noise that Peter wasn’t sure how to categorize. “I’m, uh… I don’t have a shirt on under this.”

 

That made sense. The day hadn’t really been cool enough to warrant a hoodie. “Oh. Don’t worry about it.”

 

Wade sighed before leaning forward and pulling his hoodie off, tossing it to the floor. “Better?”

 

Peter tucked himself back into Wade’s side, wrapping an arm around his middle and hummed contently.

 

He wasn’t paying any attention to the show that Wade had selected. Instead he focused on the feeling of the scars that spread across his stomach. “Do these ever hurt?” He asked quietly.

 

“Peter, you should know my abs are cut from the sharpest stone available and hurt anyone who touches them. I should really be warning you to be careful for your own safety.”

 

Peter couldn’t have stopped laughing if he’d had to. It was a solid minute before he was able to gasp back into some control of himself.

 

“I’m not sure if I should be offended that you’re laughing at my lethal abs,” Wade commented, setting Peter’s laughter off again.

 

“Probably, yes.”

 

Once they finally settled back into quiet Peter spoke again, “Honestly, though. Do they hurt?”

 

“You don’t want the answer to that.”

 

“So, yes then.” Peter went still. “Does it hurt for me to touch you? Should I stop?”

 

“No, it’s ok.” Wade said quickly. Then much quieter, “That feels good, it doesn’t hurt.” Peter nodded and settled back in. They stayed like that for hours and Peter couldn’t imagine a more perfect time.

 

By midnight they were both getting tired. “I should head home,” Wade finally said.

 

Peter let out a groan but still let Wade get up. He followed him to the elevator and pressed the call button. He grabbed Wade’s hand and held it happily until the elevator arrived. Wade pulled away to step into the elevator on his own, but Peter followed.

 

“Where are you going?” Wade asked.

 

“Back home for tonight. I don’t have any of my stuff here, plus I think she’s pretty stressed about all this.”

 

Wade nodded. “You need any help moving?”

 

Peter hesitated. “Yeah, I guess I will, huh? This is so, _so_ weird.”

 

He was tired enough that Peter just flagged a taxi and gave them the address, then leaned across the seat to let his head fall on Wade’s arm.

 

The trip back seemed really short. He wondered if he’d dozed off. He said goodbye to Wade at the foot of the apartment stairs, pressing one of the apartment keycards firmly into Wade’s hand.

 

“Thank you. Tonight was amazing.”

 

“Of course,” Wade replied, pulling Peter into a hug. They broke apart and Wade headed towards his place.

 

Peter could hear May softly crying before he opened the door. “Peter?” She sounded surprised. “I thought you’d be at your apartment tonight.”

 

He walked silently across the living room and pulled her into a hug.

 

“When did you go and turn into an adult right under my nose?” She asked tearfully. As Peter held her, he knew he had made the right choice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! This took a while. Pretty happy with the turn out, though! I hope you all enjoy it, too!

_ I never thought I could feel so small _

_ I'm the one who will suffer this detention _

_ I never thought I would lose this all _

_ But I accept this is my new education _

 

August (Cont.)

 

**Peter**

 

The next morning found Peter slowly packing. It was really weird to watch his entire life get loaded neatly into boxes. May, who had apparently been up since well before dawn had made a massive breakfast and gone out and purchased boxes so that he could start as soon as he woke up. Any sadness she'd had the night before had been replaced with a laser focus to  _ help _ .

 

By lunch they had gotten most of the stuff packed and ready to move. Peter checked his phone for what to be the 100th time, but Wade still hadn’t answered his good morning text. Finally, the concern getting to him, he told May that he wanted to go check on Wade. She smiled and waved him off. Peter covered the distance quickly and let himself into Wade’s apartment.

 

He hesitated in the doorway. While it wasn’t nearly as bad as when Wade had tried to shoot him, the place was still a mess. Broken glass covered the floor. Peter was still, listening. He could hear breathing from the bedroom, but it was very unsteady.

 

“Wade?” He called out as he carefully stepped towards the bedroom. Wade was sitting on his bed, back pressed against the wall. His knees were pulled up and his head was tucked against them. Peter climbed into the bed and touched his shoulder. “Wade?” He asked softly, fully aware of just how violent Wade could be when upset. But, at least for the moment, his senses were quiet.

 

Wade took a deep breath, and lifted his hands to scrub his face. “Hey, baby boy,” he said with a false happiness that didn’t show anywhere on his face.

 

Peter crawled across the bed and deposited himself between Wade’s legs, leaning back against his chest as they had the night before. “What’s wrong?”

 

Wade didn’t answer, he just wrapped his arms around Peter and held him close.

 

“Wade, please talk to me.” Peter let the request hang in the air, giving Wade time to think.

 

Finally, “Found out Ellie’s adoption will be finalized here soon.” Wade took a slow shaky breath. “At least she’ll be with the kind of family she deserves.” Wade fell silent once again. The only indication that Peter had that Wade was crying was the shift in his breathing. 

 

Peter rubbed Wade’s arms and tried to think of what to say. “I can’t imagine how you feel,” he said quietly. “But you’re doing right by her, and that’s what’s important. You’ll still get to see her, right?” Wade nodded minutely.

 

“Failure,” he muttered into Peter’s shoulder.

 

“You’re not a failure,” Peter insisted. “You’re letting a family who loves her take care of her, for her protection. That’s not failing, that’s being selfless.” He paused, considering his next words. “I don’t think I could do it if I had to make the same choice.”

 

Wade took a slow unsteady breath. “She’s already been through hell on my account.”

 

Peter knew he shouldn’t pry, but his curiosity won out, “What do you mean?”

It was a long moment before Wade spoke. “I didn’t know her mother well. Carmelita. But she was brave, if that day we spent together was anything to go by. After she… after we parted ways, I wound up in the brief employ of this jack-off by the name of Butler. He saw me as a  _ success story _ . Wanted to use my blood for God knows what kinds of experiments. When I found out, I left. 

 

“He didn’t like that.  _ Somehow  _ he knew about Carmelita. Knew about Ellie. I’ll never find out  _ how _ , since I didn’t know…” He paused then. “I don’t know why I went back,” he admitted. “I must have had a reason.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I went back. Me and...I think there was someone else. Butler had taken a lot of prisoners. We got them out. Carmelita didn’t make it.

 

“It was another year before I met Ellie. SHIELD took her in. Emily and Shane, rather. She would have been safe there, if I hadn’t…”

 

Peter stayed quiet, letting Wade gather his thoughts.

 

“I went looking for her. Found her. Couldn’t fucking believe my eyes. I wasn’t going to say anything. I just wanted to see her. Know that she was ok. 

 

“They were after me. Saw me. They figured that going after her would get my attention. They figured right.” Peter wanted to ask,  _ who _ ?, but didn’t want to interrupt. “He threw her out a fucking window. I guess I must have caught her? I remember seeing her falling and then… and then I was surrounded by bodies and blood, and she was nowhere to be found.”

 

“Jesus,” Peter whispered, despite himself. 

 

“Yeah.” Wade’s voice sounded amused, but it was a dark sort of amusement. “That’s what I meant. People close to me...they get hurt, Peter.”

 

They sat in silence for a long time after that. Wade’s breathing eventually settled, but neither were totally willing to give up the closeness just yet. Finally, “Let’s get thing cleaned up in here,” Peter spoke into the silence.

 

Wade nodded and tightened his arms around Peter in a brief hug before releasing him to get up. 

 

“After… do you still want to help me move?”

 

He was met with something approaching a smile. “Of course, baby boy. I probably need the distraction anyway.”

 

Peter grabbed the broom from it’s normal spot in the corner. It took them less than 10 minutes to get everything cleared away. “You know, once you move you don’t have to come out here if you don’t want to,” Wade said quietly.

 

“Pfft. Are you kidding? I love it here,” Peter smiled. Then, in a stage whisper, “And between you and me, one of my favorite people lives in this building.”

 

Wade smiled, then schooled his expression into one of mock anger. “Who is it? I’ll beat that fucker up.”

 

Now they were both laughing. Everything seemed lighter and Peter was relieved. 

 

He held Wade’s hand the whole back to the apartment.

 

Wade still insisted on releasing his hand once they outside the front door. Once inside May greeted them both with hugs. Wade seemed startled by that, but took it in stride. They were both surprised to find a pouting Ned sitting on Peter’s bed amongst the boxes.

 

“I’m hurt that you wouldn’t even tell me.” Without missing a beat, Ned smiled at Wade, “Hi again!”

 

Wade smiled but looked highly uncomfortable.

 

“Sorry,” Peter said, shrugging. “I figured I’d tell you and MJ once I got moved over and all that.”

 

Ned managed to hold his “hurt” expression for about a minutes before they were all packing in relative silence. At one point Peter started pulling the hanging clothes out of his closet to pack and Wade stopped him, saying, “Just leave them hung up so you don’t have to unpack and rehang them.”

 

After a few more such suggestions Ned asked, “Did you move around a bunch growing up?”

 

Wade hesitated. He wasn’t facing Ned, but Peter could see the look of confusion on his face. “Yes,” he said finally.

 

By two everything was packed. Peter was surprised when the moving crew arrived and loaded up the boxes--which was totally unnecessary, it wasn’t like he had a  _ ton _ of stuff--and he could only guess that Tony had sent them. May called two taxis, one for Peter and Wade, and one for her and Ned.

 

The crew had already unloaded the boxes and were leaving by the time they got there. Peter gave Ned and May a quick tour in which they marveled and exclaimed at all the right things. Wade remained by the elevator door like he had the night before.

 

Ned announced that he and MJ had a date and slipped out quickly after the tour. May stayed for a while but then also left, her excuse a flimsy, “I have somewhere I need to be.”

 

Peter had no doubt that she just wanted to try to give them some alone time.

 

Although Wade had started to help with unpacking, he still seemed off. 

 

Peter took his hands and pulled him into the bedroom. “Lay down with me,” he demanded.

 

Wade smiled and didn’t argue, crawling up on the bed and laying down. Peter crawled up next to him, laying his head on Wade’s shoulder, and throwing an arm across his stomach.

 

“What else is going on with you?” He asked quietly. “I know you’ve got… a  _ lot _ going on, and maybe I’m totally off base but…” He chewed at the inside of his lip. “It feels like there’s something you’re not telling me?”

 

Wade was silent. Peter wanted to push, but knew that if Wade was going to tell him anything, asking more than once would do nothing but slow the reply. Besides, he hadn’t denied that something else was going on, either.

 

“Your place is just so different than mine,” he offered.

 

Peter blinked. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “I… are you jealous?”

 

“No. No. This is perfect for you. You deserve this and more.”

 

Peter wasn’t so sure about that, but wasn’t going to argue the point right then. It took another moment before Wade’s behavior clicked into place. “But you don’t think that  _ you _ deserve something like this?”

 

The long silence that followed confirmed his suspicion. 

 

Peter put a hand on Wade’s chest and used it to push himself up. “Wade,” he said firmly. Wade refused to look at him. “Hey!” Peter pushed up and down on Wade’s chest, causing him to bounce on the bed. With a small sigh Wade finally looked at him. Peter reached a hand up to cup his cheek. “You are amazing and wonderful. I know you don’t see it yet, but I will make you understand that someday. You’re just as deserving of good things as I am. And besides,” Peter said, leaning back with a smile, “we’re together now, right? So what’s mine is yours anyway.”

 

Wade’s criminally blue eyes held Peter’s for a long time in the silence. Eventually he reached up and rested his palm against Peter’s cheek. “Must be doing something right to be with someone like you.” Peter blushed, and Wade managed a grin. “Come on, let’s finish unboxing your life,” Wade said, rolling to his feet.

 

By the time they had everything unpacked--Peter owned more stuff than he’d ever recognized--the sun had set behind the massive windows.

 

Peter sighed heavily from the couch. “That was entirely too much work.”

 

Wade laughed from the kitchen. “You need to get some groceries, baby boy.”

 

Peter glared over the back of the couch. “Look who’s talking.”

 

Wade waved him off. “Yeah, yeah.”

 

“Come over here and help me pick furniture,” Peter called to him. “I have no idea how this adulting stuff works.”

 

Wade laughed and walked over, dropping down next to him on the couch.

 

Tony had left a note on the StarkPad with websites that had Tony’s card on file, but Peter still had no clue what to pick. He’d left all of his furniture at May’s--he still intended to sleep there sometimes.

 

Wade plucked the StarkPad out of Peter’s hand and went to the first website from Tony’s list. “I guess the first thing to do is pick what style of furniture you like.” 

 

Peter wondered if he looked as lost as he felt. The fact that Wade backed up and started to show him furniture styles told him that yes, he had.

 

Based on the image searches, he apparently liked “cozy contemporary”. 

 

They returned to the websites on Tony’s list, sorting by room and style. It took way longer than Peter expected and Wade ended up helping him choose between multiple options on each major piece of furniture until it was all ordered. The earliest arrival was for 10 AM the next day, with the final few things set to come closer to 8 PM.

 

“Well, that’ll be exciting,” Peter yawned.

 

Wade chuckled. “You’re excited about deliveries? Fuck, when did you get so old?”

 

Peter elbowed him in the ribs in protest.

 

Wade put an arm around Peter’s shoulders, and Peter curled against him immediately, more than happy for the attention. “Wade?” He asked, his voice quieter than he’d meant it to be. Wade hummed softly, waiting for Peter to continue. “Could you stay over tonight? I’ve never really been alone in the apartment overnight. Well, no, I have, but it was right after Ben and…” Peter trailed off, forcing himself to cut off that memory.

 

“Sure, baby boy.” Wade replied easily.

 

“Thanks.” Peter hugged him before settling back to leaning against his side. Wade’s hands absently traced patterns on Peter’s shoulder.

 

After a bit Peter ordered in some pizza, since there wasn’t any food in the kitchen, and neither of them felt like going out.

 

Peter had just stood up to stretch when a familiar voice echoed through the room. “There is a delivery man requesting access. Should I let him up?”

 

If Peter had been started by the voice, it was apparently nothing to how Wade had felt. He was up on his feet, looking ready for a fight, but Peter held up a hand in hopes to calm him.

 

“Karen?” Peter asked incredulously.

 

“Yes, Peter?”

 

“Um…? Did Mr. Stark add you to the apartment?”

 

“Yes, Peter.”

 

Peter ran a hand through his hair. That was...weird. Really weird. “Yeah, send him up, please.”

 

“What the  _ fuck _ was that?” Wade sounded freaked out.

 

“That’s Karen. She’s part of the interface for my suit… and I guess now my apartment?”

 

Wade looked like the walls might close in on him, but before he could say anything more, the bell from the elevator rang and he threw himself down on the couch so that he wouldn’t be visible.

 

Peter paid and carried the pizzas back over to the couch.

 

“Karen?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“What, um. What can do you?”

 

“I have been programmed with the complete functionality of JARVIS, so I am capable of assisting with any of your needs here at home, as well as on patrol.”

 

Wade spoke from the couch, “Karen?” His voice sounded tense.

 

“Yes, Wade?”

 

“Are you recording?”

 

There was a slight pause. “Yes, Wade.”

 

“And is Stark able to access those recordings?”

 

Peter waited, a high pitched noise humming in the back of his mind as he processed Wade’s line of questioning.

 

“Mr. Stark does not have the access codes to view any recordings I take. Furthermore, if there is nothing of interest, all recordings are deleted after 30 minutes.” Peter let out a breath of air he hadn’t know he was holding. Karen continued, “Only Peter knows the access codes to view those files.”

 

“Let me know if that changes, please,” Peter said, dropping the pizza on the table.

 

Wade moved across the room and wrapped Peter in a hug. His heart was hammering in his chest but it seemed to slow as they hugged.

 

“Food?” Peter finally spoke.

 

By the time the clock on the wall read 11, Peter was about ready to fall asleep sitting up. “You ready for bed?” He asked.

 

“Yeah, probably a good idea. Didn’t sleep much last night,” Wade agreed.

 

A sudden thought occured to Peter, “We...don’t have any extra blankets for the couch.”

 

Wade waved him off. “I’ve slept in worse places than an amazing soft couch.”

 

Peter made a sound of disapproval, then quietly, “You could sleep in my bed? It’s more than big enough for both of us.”

 

Wade shook his head firmly, “Seriously, Peter, I’ll be ok.”

 

“Well, I’ll feel bad,” Peter pressed. “You helped me out all day after you had a really shitty night. You take the bed, and I’ll take the couch.”

 

“Peter, it’s your place. I’m not taking your bed.” Peter resolutely sat back down on the couch, arms folded. “For fuck’s sake, Peter, really?” Wade said, but there was no heat in his voice. When Peter stayed silent Wade sighed. “Fine. We’ll share the bed. But I’m not pleased about it.” 

 

Peter grinned and got back on his feet. “Fine, don’t be pleased that I’m  _ making you _ sleep somewhere warm and comfortable. You poor tortured soul.”

 

Wade immediately replied in a falsetto voice, “It’s nothing but pizza and comfy beds. What’s a poor girl like me to do with all this abuse?”

 

Peter snorted before they both dissolved into a fit of laughter.

 

As they moved to the bedroom, Peter pulled his shirt off. He  _ felt _ Wade tense.

 

“Are you sure, baby boy?” He asked quietly.

 

Peter stopped and gave him an exasperated look. “Wade, it’s a giant bed, and we’re both exhausted.” Peter finished pulling off his jeans, but Wade hadn’t moved. He was staring at Peter, but wasn’t watching him undress. His eyes were laser focused on Peter’s face. “Yes, I’m sure.”

 

Wade nodded and followed after him, pulling off his shirt. Peter was already curled up under the covers by the time Wade had pulled off his jeans.

 

“Am I missing something?” Peter asked quietly.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, you’re acting like sharing a bed is a big thing. I figured it would be be way less of a big deal to you since you mentioned…” Peter trailed off, frustrated at himself.

 

“There’s a big difference between casual sex and sleeping in bed with someone you care about,” Wade said, climbing into bed.

 

“Huh.” Peter said, feeling strangely out of sorts. He had a hard time imagining anything more personal than sex, casual or not. He wanted to ask, but Wade already thought of him as way too innocent. Besides, he was already struggling to keep his eyes open.

 

“Sweet dreams,” he said quietly, instead.

 

“Sweet dreams, baby boy,” Wade mumbled.

 

Within moments Peter was asleep.

  
  


**Wade**

 

Wade woke up feeling warm and lazy. A night without nightmares was rare as fuck, but he wasn’t about to complain. A split second later a movement against his side reminded him where he was. Peter had scooted over in the night and had flung both an arm and a leg over him. As he looked at Peter a quiet voice in his mind whispered,  _ You always did sleep better with someone in bed with you. _

 

And just like that voice was gone. It had felt so familiar, yet no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t place it.  _ How would the voice even know? _ Had he ever slept with someone just to sleep? He struggled to find any memory of it, but gave up. Trying to recall just made things more confusing. Better to let the memories come on their own.

 

He instead returned his attention to Peter. His smooth cheek rested in stark contrast to Wade’s horribly marred chest. He looked so fucking innocent, still so young.

 

_ Not that young. By his age you’d already racked up more confirmed kills than the rest of your squad combined, _ Yellow reminded him.  _ If you don’t corrupt him, he’ll end up dead, too. Another in your long list of dead lovers. Maybe we should count them up? Oh wait. You  _ can’t _. You’re too fucked to even remember!  _ Yellow was laughing. He was just getting started, the way he was laughing.

 

Wade needed to get up, to move, couldn’t sit still anymore. He briefly debated trying to slide out without waking Peter up, but there was no real way to do that, and he didn’t think waking Peter up by trying to slip out silently was ideal.

 

“Peter,” he whispered. 

 

Peter’s eyes flickered open and he yawned. “Morning,” he said blearily.

 

“I’m going to go take a shower,” he said, keeping his voice quiet.

 

“Mmmm, no.” Peter mumbled, digging his fingers into Wade’s ribs.

 

“Fine. Then you have to wake up enough to talk to me, ‘cause I don’t sit in silence well,” he replied, trying to ignore the fact that Peter’s fingernails against his ribs felt entirely too good for so early in the morning.

 

Peter made a noise before cuddling closer and stretching. His fingers started making lazy patterns over Wade’s stomach. “Why are you even awake?” He mumbled.

 

“It’s your fault. You’re a terrible influence. You’re corrupting me.”

 

Peter laughed. Wade loved hearing him laugh.

 

“I apparently wake up a lot sooner when I’m not up all night with nightmares,” he admitted once Peter had quieted down.

 

“You have nightmares too?” Peter asked, sounding surprised.

 

“Yeah, most nights,” he answered. Mostly half remembered memories that disappeared as soon as he opened his eyes.

 

Peter nodded. “I get them a lot, too. Not last night though.” Peter stretched again, pressing their bodies closer together. Wade hated himself for noticing that Peter wasn’t the least bit aroused by their compromising position. “It’s going to be weird waking up here alone. Not being able to check on May.”

 

Wade nodded. “Definitely going to be an adjustment, I’m sure.”

 

“Hey, Wade?” Peter asked. Wade hummed, not liking Peter’s tone at all. “Can we talk about the other day? At Coney Island?”

 

_ I’d rather perform a self-lobotomy.  _ “Sure. What do you want to know?” He asked instead.

 

“What...what was going on? I’ve never seen you like that.”

 

Yellow practically screamed in delight.  _ It was only a matter of time before he wanted to know why you were so fucked up. Don’t say too much yet, I want popcorn! _

 

He took a slow breath. How the fuck to explain that? “When I’m out on a job,” he started before pausing. He knew Peter was listening intently, not wanting to rush him. “There is a certain… mindset, I guess, that’s involved.”

 

Peter nodded.

 

“And jobs like that one that take days and days between planning and travel and recon… I get deeper and deeper into that mindset.”

 

Another nod. “So then when you come back, it’s just hard?”

 

_ Success. That had made some sort of sense! _

 

“Can you explain how it’s hard? Like, what was going on in your head that day?”

 

_ Well, fuck. _

 

“I… yeah, I can try.” He said, sounding supremely unsure. “I guess it…” he stopped. Tried again, “Everything was just really loud? When you’re on a mission--job--,” it was Deadpool who thought of them as missions, damn it, “you have to be alert. Every rustle and breaking branch  _ means _ something. An enemy could be moving, and animal might be walking by that could alert them that someone is there. Some random person in the crowd could be a spy watching for you.”

 

“And you came back still thinking like that, and took me to one of the most crowded places in the area?” His tone didn’t sound accusatory, just curious. He was trying to understand.

 

“I...yeah.”

 

“That makes sense. I’m sorry it was so hard. How long were you on that job?”

 

“I’m not sure? Time is a really hard thing for me,” he answered honestly. “I texted you though, didn’t I? Right before I left?”

 

“So, almost two weeks,” Peter supplied.

 

_ Shit, I was gone that long? _ He should have gotten a better price from that fucker.

 

“What do you normally do, after a long job like that?”

 

_ Great fucking question. _ When was his last big job?

 

“Drink? Eat? Sleep for a week?”

 

Peter smiled a bit. “Based on how much you ate that day, I’m not sure you ate anything while you were gone.”

 

“I  _ did _ eat while I was gone,” he said. He  _ remembered _ having food at one point.

 

“It kinda sounds like PTSD stuff,” Peter said quietly.

 

Yellow roared with laughter.  _ You’re getting psychoanalyzed by a teenager. Is this a new low? It feels like a new low. _

 

“Well, baby boy,” He said, pulled Peter into a hug. “My entire life has been one traumatic event.”

 

Peter was quiet for a while. Wade’s fingers found Peter’s hair and he took time enjoying the feeling of the silky strands in his fingers. 

 

“I feel like that sometimes, too,” Peter said quietly.

 

He hummed softly.

 

“It’s happened more since the rooster. That bright light, and the sound, or I guess the lack of sound? Just… noise,” Peter continued.

 

That brought a literal flash of memory. “I think I got hit with a flash bang once,” He said suddenly. “Seemed like whatever the rooster hit you with was similar.”

 

“When you were in the military?” Peter asked.

 

“I think? It all kind of runs together.”

 

“What do you do, when you think about back then?” Peter asked quietly.

 

_ I’m too fucked to remember those times, kid. _ “Honestly, just try to stay busy. Like I said, I don’t do still and quiet.”

 

Peter sat up some, “Do you need to get up?”

 

“No, I’m good.”

 

Peter smiled and laid his head back down on Wade’s chest.

 

He wasn’t sure how long they laid there. If Yellow got too loud he would find something to ask Peter, but for the most part they just enjoyed the time.

 

“I think I’m going to ask Ned to come over and look at Karen today. Make sure there isn’t something in there that we should know about.”

 

“Can Ned do that?” Wade asked, impressed.

 

“Yeah, he helped me hack my suit once.”

 

Peter’s friends were apparently nearly as amazing as him. That kid could hack into Stark’s tech? Why had Peter hacked into his suit? He’d ask for that story later. “That would be really good,” he agreed. He still wasn’t fond of the idea of Stark being able to monitor them. Didn’t like the idea of him keeping  _ more _ of an eye on Peter. Calling it an invasion of privacy didn’t feel strong enough. “We should probably get dressed though. Furniture will be coming soon.”

 

Peter sighed but sat up, rubbing his face.

 

“I’m going to shower,” Wade said, climbing out of bed. He was fairly certain he felt Peter’s eyes on him as he walked to the bathroom.

 

It was fucking  _ huge _ . He was pretty sure he’d lived in apartments smaller than this bathroom. He caught his reflection out of the corner of his eye and firmly resolved to just ignore the mirror rather than cover it like at his place.

 

Turning on the shower and watching the steam rise immediately, he totally didn’t feel jealous. Stepping into the shower he hissed at the burn of the water on his skin.

 

As he was drying off Peter knocked on the door. “Hey, just a heads up, Ned’s on his way over.”

 

“Thanks, baby boy. I’ll be out in a few.”

  
  


**Peter**

 

Ned stepped out of the elevator with a huge grin on his face. “What are we breaking into?” He asked immediately.

 

“Karen.”

 

Ned’s grin faltered, he looked confused. “The suit lady?”

 

Peter nodded, “Yeah.”

 

“Isn’t she just an interface for the suit?”

 

“Hey, Karen, say “Hi” to Ned!”

 

“Good morning, Ned.”

 

“Holy crap! That’s AWESOME!” Ned exclaimed.

 

“Mostly it’s a huge invasion of my autonomy,” Peter complained. “No offense, Karen.”

 

“None taken, Peter. I advised against this.”

 

Peter heard rustling from the bedroom. Was pretty sure he heard Wade at the door. “Ned’s here!” He called back. More rustling as Wade retreated for a moment.

 

“So, are there just like...cameras?”

 

“Yes,” Karen told them.

 

“Everywhere?” Ned asked.

 

“Correct.”

 

Peter froze. “Wait, like… Everywhere-everywhere?”

 

“I am able to provide surveillance for every room in the apartment.”

 

Well, that felt horrible. He was going to  _ at least _ disable the cameras in the bathrooms. He heard the bedroom door open.

 

“Seriously? Is it like that at The Tower, too?” Wade had joined them.

 

Ned blinked at Wade’s appearance from the bedroom, but didn’t comment. Peter was grateful.

 

“It is. JARVIS maintains a higher level of security than I’m able to provide.”

 

“So...what am I doing?” Ned asked. “You don’t trust Karen?”

 

Peter huffed. “She’s a UI, Ned.”

 

“She’s a very nice UI!” Ned corrected him.

 

“Aww, thank you, Ned. But Peter is right. Since Mr. Stark programmed me, there is the chance that there are protocols in my code that even I am unaware of.”

 

Ned shifted. “So...you’re cool with me tinkering around in you?”

 

“I support it.”

 

Ned barely contained his squeal of excitement as a monitor projected onto the the far wall. “Peter! Do you know what this means?”

 

Peter was staring at the monitor. That would be super useful. “That Mr. Steak is fine foregoing whatever security deposit he put down on this place?”

 

“I'm pretty sure he just bought it outright,” Wade muttered darkly. 

 

“No! Well, maybe that, too. But no! Karen’s gone deviant!”

 

Peter snorted and rolled his eyes. Wade just looked confused. “Video game,” he said in way of explanation. “Ned, this is serious.”

 

“I know, I know.” Ned pouted for a moment before turning to the monitor and setting to work.

 

Wade stood next to Peter, arms crossed, watching Ned work. “What are you gonna do if you find something?”

 

Peter shoved his hands in his pockets. “Depends on what I find, I guess.”

 

After a few hours, they’d found absolutely nothing of interest. Some of the furniture had started arriving, so they took a much needed break.

 

“So, how’d you two meet?” Ned asked brightly.

 

“Um,” Wade glanced at Peter, “Stark internship?” He offered.

 

Ned looked confused for a moment, “Holy shit. Are you an Avenger?”

 

Peter barely kept from laughing at Wade’s vaguely offended expression. “Sorry, Wade. Ned knows about me being Spider-Man.”

 

Wade looked befuddled by the news. “He does?”

 

“Yeah, he found out. Now he’s my guy in the chair.”

 

“...Guy in the… Wow, alright.” 

 

Ned crossed his arms, “Hey, I’ve been very helpful.”

 

Wade smiled, “I don’t doubt it.”

 

“So… Avenger?”

 

“No. Not a chance in hell.”

 

“Oh,” Ned said, sounding disappointed.

 

“You can tell him, if you want.” Peter suggested, fairly sure that wasn’t a terrible idea.

 

“You’ve got a lot of faith in your friends, Petey.”

 

Peter shrugged. “I mean, I’ve only got the two.” Peter wasn’t sure how to read Wade’s expression after that comment.

 

But Wade held his hand out towards Ned. “You might be more familiar with my work as Deadpool.”

 

Ned’s eyes went wide, and for a moment Peter was worried it was out of fear, but, “You’re friends with Deadpool? You’re  _ dating _ Deadpool? Peter, do you even realize how cool your life is?”

 

Of course Ned would be cool with this. Ned was great at taking just about everything in stride after all. Peter felt bad that he’d ever been worried about his reaction.

  
  


By that afternoon, Ned and Peter still hadn’t found anything of note. The furniture had been delivered, and the apartment actually looked like someone lived there.

 

“Sorry I couldn’t find anything,” Ned said, sounding defeated.

 

“Don’t worry about it. Hopefully that just means there was nothing to find.”

 

Ned left with a promise to put some more thought into it.

 

“Hey, Pete?” Wade said during a commercial break.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I’m gonna be kind of MIA for a day or two.”

 

Peter sat up, looking at Wade properly. “Another job?”

 

Wade shook his head. “Ah, no. I’m just going to be out of town to visit Ellie. It’s her birthday.”

 

“That’s great!” Peter grinned. “I wish you’d told me, I would have gotten her a present.”

 

“I’ll make sure she knows you’re thinking of her.”

 

Peter curled back up against Wade’s side. “When are you leaving?”

 

“Tomorrow morning.”

 

He couldn’t quite help the discontented noise at the news.

 

“That a problem?”

 

“No. Of course not.” He picked at the closest belt loop on Wade’s jeans. “D’you need to head back home tonight?”

 

“Not if you don’t want me to, baby boy.” 

 

Honestly, Peter didn’t think he’d ever really want Wade to leave. He also recognized that that wasn’t something he should say out loud. “If you’re sure you don’t mind. I’d like the company.”

  
  


September 

 

Peter and Deadpool were surrounded by five men in nicely tailored suits. The same men who’d appeared after their fights with Juggernaut and Rhino, as the man apparently prefered to be called. And now? They were after Deadpool. They had made a valiant attempt at cornering them, saying something about Weapon X. They wanted Deadpool to go with them. He wasn’t inclined to go willingly. 

 

“Run for it, Spidey,” Deadpool had hissed as the men pulled out their guns. 

 

His Spidey Senses agreed with Deadpool--he needed to be as far from this fight as he could manage. “I’m not going anywhere without you,” Peter argued.

 

Without turning to look, Peter webbed the first man to move his finger to the trigger.

 

“You stupid  _ fuck _ ,” Deadpool growled, slamming bodily into Peter, knocking him to the ground as the remaining men opened fire. He heard Deadpool’s returning fire. Peter looked up just in time to see Deadpool get shot in the head.

 

“Holy  _ shit, _ ” he yelped. “Deadpool!” 

 

But Deadpool was either going to be fine, or he was going to be dead. Either way, there wasn’t anything Peter could do right then except incapacitate the rest of their attackers. He Web-grenaded two of them, and taser-webbed a third.

 

The last guy took a shot and nearly connected with Peter’s leg. He didn’t think twice about how hard he hit the guy to knock him out.

 

Peter took a deep breath and knelt down next to Deadpool. “DP? You alive?” He asked quietly, carefully touching him on the shoulder.

 

Deadpool came up swinging, so, good, not dead. He was also decidedly uncoordinated and immediately fell into Peter’s arms.

 

“Thank fuck,” Peter whispered, letting out a breath. “Alright, I’ve got you.” 

 

Peter easily carried Wade back to his apartment. Most of the bleeding had stopped, but he was still covered in blood and at least a few injuries were still dripping. Peter set him carefully on the couch, and helped him out of his suit before darting off to grab a few towels to start cleaning the blood away from the bullet holes. He’d been shot at  _ least _ five times by Peter’s count. But with how quickly he healed, it could have easily been quite a few more.

 

**Wade**

 

“Hey, Itsy-bitsy,” Wade mumbled. “I’m ok.” Peter’s hands were shaking. Wade grabbed both of them in his own hands. “Breathe. I’m ok. I promise. It takes more than that to put me down. Everything is fine.” Peter managed to nod.

 

“I’m sorry I attacked you when I woke up,” He said quietly.

 

“S’ok. I’m just really  _ really _ glad you’re…” Peter swallowed. “I’m glad you’re ok.” His voice was still shaking.

 

It wasn’t ok. “It’s just really hard to think when I’m on a job, or in a fight. My mind lags behind the actions. It’s something they taught, really pushed for… can’t remember who. Special forces or the CIA, maybe?”

 

“The CIA encouraged you to act first and think later?” Peter asked, sounding incredulous. He was at least sitting down now.

 

“Baby boy, you have to think about it. I’m a mercenary. My whole mission is to live long enough to kill the other guy, and then get back for another mission. They didn’t care if I killed an innocent or two by mistake.”  _ He _ had cared though, he was pretty sure. Was that why he left? “The important thing was to kill the mark, and survive enough to return. If I stopped to think about things when I’m fighting, I’d be dead a dozen times over.” Peter’s eyes were wide. “My mind does catch up,” he told him. “It’s just 30-45 seconds behind what I’m physically  _ doing _ .”

 

“Is that what happens when you get back too? After jobs?” Peter’s hands had stopped shaking, but his eyes were still wide, panicked.

 

_ Keep talking, you’re finally going to scare him off _ . Wade couldn’t tell which voice was whispering to him right then. Was he being encouraged or warned?

 

“Yeah. I never realized it before. But I was never really around anyone after jobs, either. It was also debriefs, then briefing, then out again. If I was lucky, maybe a night or two of down time in between… Now I normally just come home and sleep it off.” Before he could think better of it, he continued, “I don’t think I ever did any jobs with Weapon X… but maybe I did? Honestly I’m not even sure how I fell in with Sister Margaret’s either.”

 

“Why can’t you remember?” Peter’s eyes held his, unblinking.

 

Wade could blame the bullet hole in his brain. Except that hadn’t really caused any problems thus far.  _ Had it?  _ He couldn’t tell the difference between White and Yellow. “I think it’s always been like that,” he said instead. He didn’t like lying to Peter. “Everything past a certain point is just blackness and static. I remember snippets of things, but I don’t know if they really happened, or if I’m just remembering something someone told me, or if it’s something that happened to someone else. Sometimes my mind will just throw up a memory of someone or something that I didn’t realize I even remembered, and then the next minute it’s back into the black.

 

“Pictures help sometimes. I can hear and smell and feel things I felt when they were taken, but other times I know me but I can’t remember any of it. It’s like looking at a photoshop of my face in someone else’s life. I thought that was normal until some buddies were talking about their past like it was nothing.”

 

“I don’t…” Peter started, sounding confused.

 

Now that Wade had started explaining, he found it hard to stop. “I remember these pieces of my childhood that can’t possibly fit together. It can’t all be mine. I remember Dad leaving, never coming back. But I also remember him raising me alone until I enlisted, too. It can’t be both! Completely contradictory childhoods. I don’t know what’s real from then, so I don’t try to think about it. What’s the point? No matter which childhood I pick, it’s all fucked up. If one or both of them are alive, I don’t want anything to do with them. 

 

“And then at some point I guess I started hearing White.”

 

_ Don’t you bring us into this, _ White warned.

 

“White?” Peter asked. At least he was still trying to follow.

 

Wade paused. Had he ever talked about White or Yellow with anyone? He couldn’t remember if he had. It didn’t feel like something he’d ever mentioned. Couldn’t imagine why he ever would. He hadn’t really meant to  _ ever  _ tell Peter about them.

 

“One of the voices in my head,” he admitted quietly. “White can actually be helpful sometimes...I think maybe he likes you? Yellow is just a giant bag of dicks that never shuts the fuck up.”

 

“Is there some way I can help?” Peter’s hand touched his arm.

 

“I’m not helpable, baby boy. I’m completely and supremely fucked. It’s been like that as long as I can remember, and it’s not getting better with age, I can tell you that much.” Wade paused, and no further questions came. Peter sat silently next to him, his eyes still laser focused on Wade’s.

 

_ Great job. First you traumatize him by nearly dying, and then you go and drop your insanity nuke on him. You really hate happiness, don’t you? _ Yellow jeered. At least Wade could tell them apart again.

 

He took a slow breath before finally speaking again, “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is a lot. I understand if you want to head home and--”

 

“What? No. What gave you that idea?” Wade had expected a lot after his monologue. Peter to run was the first one. But no, Peter wasn’t like that. He’d make some excuse to leave and then just disappear like an amazing dream upon waking. He hadn’t expected him to look mildly offended at his suggestion.

 

“Did you hear anything I just fucking said?” Wade asked desperately. 

 

“Of course I did! That doesn’t mean I’m going to leave! Everything you said was really helpful.” Peter looked exasperated. “Now that I know more, I can support you better.  _ Thank you. _ For telling me all of it. I’m sure it was hard. But I really think it’ll help though. Especially that stuff about during and after your jobs. A lot of things make more sense now, like why you were so delayed when you responded after getting back.” Peter paused to catch his breath. “If you ever think of anything I can do to help, or like, if the voices just get too loud, or anything, just let me know, ok?”

 

“Jesus fuck, Peter.” Wade’s hand pushed across his head, trying to slide back hair that had long since stopped growing. “I think you may be more fucked in the head thinking you can care about something as screwed up as me.”

 

Peter huffed. “You’re not a thing. You’re a person, and obviously I  _ do _ care about you. Besides, if I told you something like that about me, I would hope you’d want to support me too.”

 

Wade raised an eyebrow. “ _ Do _ you have something crazy to share?”

 

Peter faltered slightly, “No. But you said you didn’t know the memory thing was weird until someone told you. Maybe I just haven’t figured my thing out yet.”

 

In spite of himself, Wade laughed. Laughed at the genuine sincerity of Peter’s words and the fact that in spite of his best efforts, Peter still sat in his shitty as fuck living room, being supportive.

 

“Fuck!” Wade cringed.

 

“What? What’s wrong?!” Peter asked, panicked.

 

Wade took a slow breath. “How many bullet holes can you still see?”

 

Peter looked, “Three? Why, what does that mean?”

 

Wade groaned. “It means they didn’t punch straight through and are about to make a repeat performance,” he answered through gritted teeth. He could feel the metal slugs moving, his body rejecting them, forcing them out. “You might want to look away. I know this kind of thing is hardly your favorite.”

 

But Peter watched undeterred as the first bullet slowly exited Wade’s chest and bounced to the floor. The wound healed almost at once behind it. Seconds later the second and third bullets fell too.

 

Suddenly Wade felt exhausted. There was a reason he never talked about himself. “Hey, I’m going to go shower,” he said, dragging himself to his feet.

 

Peter was still staring at the bullets on the floor. “Hey, Wade?” He asked. “How do you always get all this blood off the couch?”

 

Laughter bubbled up again. “I don’t. I just buy a new couch.” He grinned at Peter’s bewildered expression before retreating to wash up.

 

He had fully expected Peter to be gone when he got out. Instead Peter was sitting at the table with a massive bag of tacos next to him.

 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Wade breathed, moving across the room to sit and eat.

 

“Um…” Peter started slowly. “Would you mind spending the night at my place, or can I crash here?” He asked quietly. “After tonight I’m probably going to have some killer nightmares.”

 

“Sure baby boy. We can eat and then head over.”

 

He returned Peter’s happy smile.

 

* * *

 

“Webs!” Deadpool was running after Spider-Man, doing his damndest to keep up. Fuck this kid was fast. 

 

He kind of understood, though. Their mark-- _ no _ \--target?--not much better--had shot someone. Killed them. A home invasion turned murder, if their sources were to be believed. So yeah, he understood.

 

And it was that understanding that lead to him following the guy straight into an abandoned warehouse that he probably intended to be some sort of trap for them. Spidey had leapt to one of the windows, keeping a cautious eyes on the proceedings as Deadpool ran after him. He knew the kid had his back, it was fine.

 

Until it wasn’t. If he’d thought Spidey could move fast before, it was nothing compared to what happened after the man turned around. He hadn’t even heard him move before he had tackled the guy, fists raining down on his face, and then his arms, as he moved to protect himself.

 

_ Stop him! He’s gonna kill that guy! _ White yelled.

 

_ Or, hear me out.  _ Don’t  _ stop him. Then he can take the first step towards being as fucked up as you. _

 

Deadpool didn’t hate the idea. But White was probably right. Usually was when Spider-Man was involved. “Spidey!” He called out, rushing forward to pull him off.

 

He didn’t even look up. He just shifted so that he could hold his arm out and web Deadpool to keep him from getting any closer. He hit the ground  _ hard _ unable to even roll after after being wrapped in the sticky substance.

 

“Spider-Man!” He tried again. “You don’t want to do this.”

 

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT I WANT!” He screamed back.

 

Was he crying?

 

“This...this  _ motherfucker… _ ”

 

_ Oooooh, big boy swears! _ Yellow teased.

 

“Yeah, I know.” Deadpool struggled to get free even though he knew it was hopeless. “That’s why we caught him, right? Now we let the cops and shit handle things. Not us.”

 

The man was crying, obviously terrified. He was begging for his life.

 

“Shut up.” Deadpool heard the unmistakable sound of a bone breaking, followed by the man screaming.

 

_ Yeah!  _ Yellow cheered,  _ Take him out, baby boy! _

 

_ No no no no no no no no no no _ .

 

This couldn’t be happening. Deadpool wasn’t going to let it happen. He was the fuckup and the murderer. Not Peter. Peter was  _ good _ God damn it.

 

“Then at least tell me why! Please, Spidey.” He begged.

 

Peter stood up, webbing the man to the floor. “He killed Ben.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

 

_ There, see? Let the kid have his vengeance. This fucker deserves it. _

 

Deadpool had to agree with Yellow’s assessment. This fucker  _ did _ deserve it.

 

Peter walked back over. “Those webs dissolve in about 2 hours. We should get out of here before the cops come.”

 

Deadpool blinked. “Cops?”

 

“Yeah. Karen called them.”

 

Peter crouched down and pulled the webbing free from the ground, picking the still largely immobilized Deadpool up.

 

It was only after they were back at Wade’s apartment that Peter took the time to cut him free from his bindings. Wade was curled up on the couch, watching Peter pace around the room.

 

“I thought you were going to kill him,” he said quietly.

 

Peter kept running his hands through his hair. “I thought I was, too. I...I wanted to! Not even in an “I’m protecting others, he’ll never hurt anyone else again,” sort of way. I was just so  _ fucking _ angry!”

 

“I… yeah.”

 

“I broke his arm!”

 

“Oooooh,” Wade said, putting together the sound he’d heard. “That’s what that was.” Peter somehow looked even more distressed at his calm reaction. “I’m glad you didn’t kill him,” he added.

 

_ No you aren’t _ .

 

“You kind of scared me,” Wade admitted.

 

“I’m sorry for webbing you.”

 

Wade blinked. “What? No, not that part.”  _ That part was kind of hot _ , he didn’t say.

 

“Thank you for stopping me,” Peter continued.

 

“I didn’t stop you. You stopped yourself.”

 

Peter was quiet for a moment. He finally stopped pacing and came to a stop in front of the couch. “How do you cope with it?”

 

Wade swallowed. “Cope with what?”

 

“Killing people.” Peter’s voice wasn’t accusatory. He just looked lost and confused. He was hurting.

 

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

 

Peter was still staring at the floor. “Yes, I do.”

 

_ Do it, coward, _ Yellow hissed.

 

Wade hesitated. Peter would never look at him again if he  _ knew _ .

 

“Please. I don’t know how to deal with this. I hurt him. I  _ enjoyed _ hurting him. There’s something wrong with me.”

 

Wade closed his eyes. He hated this. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Everyone has moments that they can get swept up in and hurt others. You didn’t seek him out. You stumbled on the asshole and emotions took over.” He paused. “Breaking his arm was…”

 

_ It was bad, Deadpool _ . White told him.

 

_ Fuck that, it was awesome. The way that guy screamed? And are we just going to ignore the raging hardon you got? _

 

_ Yes _ . Wade insisted. “I’m the wrong person to try to give you morality advice, Pete. If I ever find the guy who hurt-- He won’t just be sitting in a jail cell with a broken arm.”

 

“You’ll kill him?” Peter asked quietly.

 

“Eventually.” He wondered if he should have at least tried to act like he felt bad about it. He wasn’t sure  _ how _ to act as thought he felt bad about it.

 

“That doesn’t sound like emotions getting the better of you.”

 

Wade shrugged. I’ve had a few years to consider it.

 

Peter finally sat down on the couch next to him. “Do you ever want to stop?”

 

“Killing people?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

_ No. _ “I don’t know.”

 

_ Of course you don’t. You’re a goddamn sadist and you know it. You  _ love _ killing people. _

 

“Can you try?”

 

Wade’s mind shuttered to a halt. “What?”

 

“You said you were glad I didn’t kill him.”

 

“I am.”

 

“Why?”

 

_ Because I don’t want you to be like me. _

 

Yellow snorted,  _ Yes you do. _

 

“Because that’s not you. You don’t hurt people. Don’t kill them.”  _ You’re better than me. _

 

“I know I’m being...aurg.” Peter was running his hand through his hair again, pulling at it. “I don’t even know what I’m being. I’m not being fair. Asking you to...I know that. But…” Peter was crying. Angry, frustrated tears.

 

_ Good job. You’ve finally  _ really  _ scared him. _ White scolded.

 

Peter finally knew what it felt like to what to kill someone. To  _ really _ want to kill someone. He was freaking out, struggling to cope with the guilt of it. Wade couldn’t answer his question about how he coped because...he didn’t need to. He didn’t feel any guilt over it. He knew the people he killed deserved to die. The guy they found that night deserved to die. The people he killed were bad. Killing them was a net good for the world.

 

And Peter was asking him to stop. The only real good he was capable of doing… and Peter thought it was bad.

 

_ This idiot loves you _ . Wade didn’t like Yellow’s tone at all.

 

_ Shut up. _

 

_ It wouldn’t be that hard to get him over to your way of thinking. _

 

_ Shut up! _

 

_ Hell, just a little nudge, and he’ll be right there with you. _

 

“I…” Wade started. Peter deserved better than him. But he didn’t seem to want it. He wanted  _ him _ . So, maybe… “I can’t promise anything.”

 

_ Deadpool _ … White warned.

 

“But, I want…”  _ Fuck _ this was hard.

 

“Wade?” 

 

“I want to deserve you.”

 

Wade wasn’t sure who moved to close the distance between them first, but the next thing he knew Peter’s soft lips were pressing against his. He smiled into the kiss as they licked into each others mouths, tasting and exploring. Wade decided he could probably die happy, and nothing was going to squash the bubble of joy that flooded his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on tumblr, [@Haarii-the-quilava](https://haarii-the-quilava.tumblr.com/) if that’s your thing! :D


End file.
